The Days That Have Passed
by Infinityscripts
Summary: According to Thorin, she is an insufferable nuisance. That is- an insufferable nuisance he claims as his wife. NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Bofur

"Ma? Can I get one?" a young boy asked, tugging at his mother's skirts and pointing a finger towards one of the stands in the market. The sign above it said: _Erebor Novelties_. Wandering over with his mother, the boy gazed in awe at the trinkets that were placed in neat rows. On the left there was an assortment of jewelry, laced with handmade beads and ornaments, glittering stones and pocket gems were organized by color on the right side, and in the middle were toys of all sorts: dolls, swords, boats, flutes and paint sets to say the least.

"Ma!" the boy called to his mother again. "Ma look! A sword!" The mother gave the shop keeper an exasperated smile, and gesturing towards the sword asked, "Is it safe for children?"

"Aye." The shop keeper responded. "It's made of wood, so there shouldn't be any cuts. However, I can't promise a lack of bruising if he decides to hit people with it." The shop keeper's grin widened as the boy began to plead, "Please Ma? Please? I promise not to hit! I promise!"

The woman smiled down at her child. "How much for the sword?"

"Six copper pieces."

The mother dug through her purse for a few moments before finally fishing out the required sum. As the boy took the sword, she began to say, "Remember your promise-" but it was too late, already the he was chasing an alley cat, swinging his new toy with abandon. As the mother gave chase, the shop keeper could not help the chuckle that escaped him.

"You are far too kind, Bofur." His companion interrupted. Said dwarf turned. "And you're far too stubborn, Hana."

She scoffed as she handed a silvery woven bracelet to an old woman, and then began to sort change. "That sword was worth at least a silver piece."

"Aye but my pride was worth more, seeing that boy love my handwork so." Bofur said, taking his hat off for a moment to scratch his head.

Night was about to fall. Hana emptied the sack that contained their earnings into her palms. "Well your pride may have cost us our dinner." She said accusingly. "Our sales haven't gone well today."

Bofur stared at her in horror, as dwarves valued food almost as highly as beards. Hana laughed. "I am jesting" and Bofur gave her a friendly shove.

"However," she continued. "We should hurry if we want to buy food. Night has almost fallen."

"I'll go find some if you pack up shop?" he offered.

"Alright," Hana said, already placing trinkets into their designated bags. "I'll only be a moment," he assured before setting off.

After the items were loaded, she began to collapse the table, before she had even finished, Bofur had returned with two bowls of stew. "Sorry I couldn't get more" he said, handing her a bowl. "I felt we should be saving some money what with winter coming, and food growing in price."

"How will the family fare- do you think?" she asked, spooning some stew into her mouth as they both rested against the wall. It was dusk.

"I'm not sure." said Bofur quietly. "We all scrape up as much as we can manage, but we still go hungry some nights, you know how markets fare in the winter."

Hana felt rather than saw his face grow weary. She knew of Bofur's situation, caring for their four brothers and an ailing mother all on his own. She had offered to give him a larger share of the wages, since she lived alone and could manage with less income, but Bofur would scoff at the idea. "Equal work deserves equal pay," he would say, "No matter the circumstances."

However, when counting up the money, Hana would always slip him some extra of hers. She felt that he knew, but he never spoke of it, only gave her a grin and ruffled her hair.

"Are you working in the mines tomorrow?" she asked as they began their long trek home.

"Yes." Bofur said, "They tell me I'll be needing to work more days soon. In the end, I'll probably be there full time."

Hana inwardly cringed. The mines were a hazardous place, and although her people had been digging in them for many years, that did not mean that accidents never occurred. Bofur had worked there part time for some months, but he was beginning to be discovered as a talented miner. It was almost as if he were able to sense the rock before he dug it up. Although his passion lay within toy making and tinkering, overseers were beginning to offer him more money to work there daily; it was only a matter of time before he accepted.

She felt her heart sink, Bofur was her best friend, and the thought of working at Dale alone was an unwelcoming one.

"That reminds me, I've been meaning to ask you something." Bofur said, and Hana turned to listen. "I have been asked to accompany some miners on a trading expedition to Rohan, King Fengel has asked for large quantities of iron. It would take place over about four months." His voice picked up in speed, he was nervous. "Normally I would go, but as of late Ma is growing faint, and I'm not sure she'll be alive in four months." Hana's walking pace slowed as she realized what he was asking.

"I know that this sort of thing would be hard for you, but you're the only person left. I was just- could you go in my place?"

Hana bit the inside of her cheek. A sudden cold fear washed over her. _This is different_- she tried to convince herself. _This is with Rohan. This is for Bofur._

"I want to spend time with her, I want to make sure she's comfortable and be there for my brothers and-"

Hana cut him off, grabbing his shoulders and turning him towards her. His face was set, but she knew better. This was how he had looked when his first true love left him, and when his father died, like a hurricane inside an eggshell.

"...Will you?" The younger dwarf asked.

"I promise," she said, trying her best to not show any hesitation.

"Thank you," he whispered, and attempted to continue onward, but Hana's grip stalled him.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asked.

Bofur must have sensed her worry, because his face lit up in his usual, cheeky grin. "Of course!" he said, turning back to Erebor. Hana hoped so.

Silence rang out as they reached the gates. The guards knew who they were and immediately let them through. They neared the street that entered an intricate series of neighborhoods. This was the part of Erebor that no visitors witnessed. The houses ranged in size, shape, and texture, but overall most were built into the mountainside. Sometimes luxurious furniture and a surplus of food could be found inside. Other times only a wooden chair with a blanket as a bed, as well as empty cupboards was all one could find. It was difficult to tell the difference from the outward appearance of homes, and thus the rich lived among the poor, and Hana liked it that way.

The two approached a bridge carved into ebony that served as passage over the abyss beneath them. Hana glanced up to see none other than Prince Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, approaching, as was his daily routine to visit his subjects at this hour. The prince was alone, not being followed by guards, which was usual. Thorin was an excellent fighter and had no need for body guards, although Hana knew there was always one nearby ready to intervene if necessary.

Thorin was handsome in stature, with a strong build and thick dark hair. His features were as chiseled as his personality. As far as she knew, Thorin could not be past the age of 120, but the age at which he behaved could easily surpass the grumpiest sages of Erebor.

"Bofur," he greeted with a nod, "and Hana."

The two nodded in response; Thorin did not demand a bow from his subjects, he seemed to lack the vanity of most upperclassmen, and treated each individual of Erebor,-even lowly toy makers- with at least a decent amount of respect. Well, each one saver her.

"I assume you are selling well in Dale?" he asked, and Bofur nodded, grinning widely in that way that he did. "Oh yes sir," he said, "The markets of Dale have been good to us of late."

"Very good." he said. He glanced at Hana briefly, his eyes were tired- she noticed- although he was trying his best to not let it show. "Carry on with your days then."

He began to walk away, but Bofur caught him by his shoulder. Hana swore she could hear axes being drawn by his hidden guards. However, Thorin did not react in a hostile manner. "Sir, is it true that you will be heading up the mining expedition in the near future?" asked Bofur.

Thorin nodded. "It is."

"I have a question then," He started. "I've been asked to go, mainly to verify the trade and make sure that we give and receive the right amount," Bofur paused and inhaled deeply. "But as of late, I've had more and more responsibilities, and I'm needed at home."

Thorin looked at him in puzzlement.

"Hana here knows a fair bit about mining," he continued. "Would she be permitted to take my place?"

Thorin eyed Hana, and she shifted in her boots. "Would she be capable of such a venture?" he inquired, "Does she know the ropes?"

"Oh yes." Bofur assured. "And whatever she doesn't know I'll teach her."

"You know how we value our women Bofur," He said. "Could she hold her own in a fight?"

Hana shrunk a little bit; she had never picked up a sword that was not made of wood. "Just as well as me I reckon so." Bofur said. "Although I doubt she would have reason too, we have few enemies in the south, and would there not be many capable men accompanying?"

Thorin nodded. "Alright then. Be prepared to leave the day after next."

"Thank you," Bofur said. "Hana will-"

"If she is a burden, understand that I will send her home without hesitation." He said, and Hana tried not to flinch at his glare. "I will risk nothing."

Ah- there it was. She had been waiting for Thorin to express his distaste towards her. She knew he had never cared for her in the least bit. Anyone could tell by the way he looked at her, or rather how he didn't look at her. She mentally sighed; she probably scared him as well.

"I... I understand." Bofur said, glancing at Hana. "I assure you sir, she will be fine."

"I hope so," Thorin said, and nodded at them. "Goodnight then."

As soon as they were out of ear shot, Hana thumped him on the head. "Bofur! What did you just do?" she hissed. "You know that I know little about mining, and even less about fighting. Why did you tell him those things?"

"I didn't lie," he defended, shooting her a look to keep quiet. "You know more than the average dwarf about mining, being around me all of the time. I'll teach you anything you need to know. Also- you've beaten me in a fight, several times, so you're probably better equipped for this venture than I."

"Those fights were with wooden swords, to entertain children in the marketplace. And I leave in less than two days- how could you teach me? You will be working in the mines!" Hana said, panic rising in her.

"Not at night," Bofur said quickly, and paused for a moment, "You promised you would..."

Hana sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Aye... that I did. Alright Bofur."

The younger dwarf grinned. "Come see the family tonight, they've been missing you. I'll teach you the ways of mining."

"Would Kenaii be alright with that?" Hana asked with a sly grin. Bofur blushed "What are you saying?" he asked, "We aren't- she's not-"

"I know." Hana interrupted. It's just fairly obvious that you've fallen for her."

Bofur looked at his feet. Kenaii was a dwarf woman of the Stronghammer clan. She had long, frizzy, orange hair that was braided into her side burns. She worked in the mines- so Bofur didn't mind being there as much as he said he did. She had, _A heart of gold and a soul of steel,_ as Bofur put it. Hana had met her once or twice when going to pick up Bofur for Dale, and with the way he looked at her, it was obvious how he felt.

Upon reaching his home, a door flung open, and with it came Bafur, Bambur, Bombur, and the youngest, Bumble.

"Hana! you're home! I learned a trick!" said Bombur, immediately running towards her, she put out her hands to stall the young dwarf, for he was quite large for his age.

"Bofur, Bafur has been pulling my beard all day!" whined Bambur.

Bafur laughed, "What beard?"

"Hana, can you take Bumble?" asked Bambur. She reached down to take the baby in her arms. He was barely a few months old, and he was absolutely lovely.

Hana smiled as she entered Bofur's familiar home. She smelled the cinnamon from the kitchen and on a rocking chair in the corner slept Bofur's mother, Breva. Hana felt her heart ache a bit. How had she faded so quickly in just a few short months? The boys barely understood what was happening. Bofur and Bafur did, but the rest simply knew that they needed to hug her more and more. Hana bit her lip. She needn't dwell on things that cannot be changed.

"Have you already eaten?" asked Bofur. "Has mother?"

Bafur nodded as his other siblings wrestled and chased each other. "Bombur made us dinner. Can I stay up? please?"

"I don't think so." Bofur said, getting the boys attention and steering them towards the stairs. "Now go kiss your mother goodnight and crawl into bed."

"Aww..." They all let out. "Hana, change his mind!" Bambur said, but Hana shook her head. "I'm not in charge anymore remember? I've moved out."

It was true. By the age of forty she had saved up enough money to buy her own little home in the civilian neighborhoods. She did so simply in a burst of youthful independence, and was by now regretting her decision to leave.

"But you're still our sister!" Bambur said, and the rest nodded in agreement.

"No means no." Bofur said. "Now off to bed- all of you."

The children grudgingly went upstairs. Bofur gingerly took the sleeping Bumble from her and moved him to his cradle near the end of the room. "Why do they seem to think that you get the last word?" he asked, sitting at the kitchen table and beckoning her to join him.

"I am the oldest, technically." She started, and then after a moment's silence asked, "Prince Thorin hates me doesn't he?"

"What makes you say that?" Bofur asked, drawing patterns into the table with his fingers.

"He didn't even speak to me today; he just asked questions through you. He barely even gave me a glance!"

"It's probably because you have no beard, you throw him off."

Hana sighed, that was a large reason as to why most people would not speak to her. Unlike most dwarf women, she was completely bare on the chin and cheeks, and was embarrassed to say the least. She heard the whispers, that she was cursed, or that she was a mixed blood. That she wasn't a true dwarf at all.

And most of those rumors were correct.

"Don't worry about it Hana." Bofur said, bringing her out of her thoughts, "You're not that ugly."

She shoved him with a grin. "Are you going to teach me about mining or not?"

That night consisted of Bofur learning Hana in mathematics, metals, and how to decide what is real ore and what is false. Hana returned home at a late hour, promising Bofur she would say goodbye before she left on her four month journey. She fell into her bed that night, feeling sick to her stomach. She did not want to do this. This was too much like- she bit the thought off. Worry would do nothing for her now, she had given Bofur her word, and she intended to fulfill it.

/

The next day at Dale was lonesome and dull, but Hana did not mind entirely. At least there no one ogled her; she could almost pass herself off as a short human. She was sharpening her carving knife between sales when she overheard the conversation of a nearby fruit vendor.

"I hear tell that Erebor is prospering like none other," a man with one eye said as he bought some cherries. "That gold flows through the mountain in rivers."

"Aye," the fruit vendor said. "But Thror must be careful, or he will be overcome with the dragon sickness, just as those before him."

"Dragon sickness?"

"Greed." The fruit vendor explained. "He will begin to hunger for wealth, and protect his gold fiercer than his own children. He's losing allies you know, by refusing to trade with the elves."

"Let us pray it doesn't spread to his son and grandson," said the one eyed man. "They seem to be on the right path."

"Yes." responded the fruit vendor. "Let us pray."

/

Thorin son of Thrain was stopped on his nightly stroll by Balin, his personal advisor and kin.

"Your father has asked me to accompany you on your journey to Rohan." said the older dwarf as he approached.

After some contemplation, Thorin agreed. "I could use what you have to say."

"I did not say you had a choice in the matter." the older dwarf said with a twinkle in his eye. "Is your company in order?"

"Yes." The prince said, gazing over the railing of the bridge. "Although something bothers me. A female dwarf will accompany us."

"Why is this a problem? Who is she?" asked Balin.

"The only one in Erebor with no beard." said Thorin, grey eyes stormy. "Hana of the Goldbeard clan, I think. Do you know of her?"

When Balin nodded Thorin asked, "Why is she not like the rest of us?"

The greying dwarf sighed. "I have only heard rumors- nasty, harsh ones of Hana being a bastard child, not fully dwarf, or that she has an illness. I've heard that she can grow a beard but shaves it off, because she is ashamed to be a dwarf. All of these are just rumors though. I am afraid the only one who truly knows is herself."

Thorin listened intently, and then said "It does not matter why, as long as she does not cause trouble."

Balin smiled. "Do not worry Thorin, this may be your first trading expedition, but I'm sure you'll do fine.

"Thank you Balin." Thorin said. "I wish to stay on this bridge and think for a while- if that is alright."

After Balin left, the dwarf prince poured through every possible scenario in his mind. He had to get this right, or else Thror would never view him as anything but an immature grandson.

Hearing footsteps, he turned to see none other than Hana. She was struggling to carry two full packs and a folded up table. After a brief debate in his mind, the chivalric side of him won over.

"Let me help you," he said, approaching her, but Hana raised her hand in denial. "Oh no _my prince_." she said mockingly. "I wouldn't want to be a burden."

Thorin gaped at her. No one in his entire life had ever dared to disrespect him in such a way. Strangely though- he felt no anger, he only wondered why.

"Goodnight then," he said softly, watching her blonde hair swing behind her as she walked away. After a moment, she called back "Goodnight Thorin, son of Thrain."

/

**I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors, I've been writing this while I'm on my lunch break so I'm kind of in a hurry. I hope that Thorin didn't seem too out of character, I just shaped him based on the thought of how he would have been before Smaug took Erebor, and before the battle of Azanullbizar. I have about seven more chapters ready to type up, corrective criticism and reviews are most wanted!**

**Bifur is Bofur and Bombur's cousin, not brother, something I'll be going through and fixing.**

**-Infinityscripts**

**I claim no rights to any of Tolkien's literary works, nor to any part of Peter Jackson's film trilogies. I OWN NOTHING.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Journey

"You really are his best friend you know."

"I know," Hana smiled and squeezed Breva's hand. She stood next to the woman who had been her mother figure her entire life. Breva looked across the room from where she laid propped up in her bed, watching her boys play and wrestle as they waited for Bofur.

Hana was attempting to ignore the fact that this was very possibly the last time she would see Breva. The woman had warm brown eyes like her sons, and although her body had waned, her spirit had not. Looking down at the baby Bumble in his cradle, she wondered if he would ever know of his mother's death- that his birth had led to an infection that had slowly killed her. She hoped he would be kept in the dark, and that he would never have to bear such a burden.

"I have something for you." Said Breva, and reaching around her neck she unhooked a simple silver chain, adorned with a single pearl. "You must promise to wear it," she said, gingerly placing it into her hands. "Keep it safe."

"What is it?" Hana asked, tying it around her neck.

"It's a pearl from the sea." said Breva, offering her a small smile. "That necklace has been handed down to the wife of the first born of each generation in this family."

Hana stopped tying. "Bofur and I aren't-"

"I know." She cut her off. "But you are the closest thing right now, and I don't think I'll live to see Bofur marry Kenaii, he has yet the courage to even court her!"

Hana ignored the first part of that sentence. "You think they will marry then?"

"I hope so. They would have lovely children." The dwarf woman sighed, wistful eyes looking up at Hana. "Do you think that you could take care of that for me… and pass it on when the time is right?

Hana bit back her emotions. "Of course Breva, you have always taken care of me."

At that moment Bofur entered the room. He was dirty from his morning shift in the mines, he had taken a break to come say goodbye. Hana shouldered her pack to leave, but first bent down to wrap Breva into a tight embrace. "Thank you so much- for everything" She said, wiping away the tears that were suddenly coming. Breva let out a simple laugh. "My pleasure Hana, promise to watch after Bofur?"

"Yes, I promise." She said, pulling her closer. The thought of saying goodbye was almost unreal. There was so much that needed to be asked and to be said, but the only thing she could manage was choked, "I love you."

"And I, you. May Mahal keep you, Hana of the Goldbeard clan." said Breva with a steady yet gentle voice- one that had read her bedtime stories when she was young, and one that had whispered comforting words to her when she awoke from nightmares.

"You as well," said Hana, putting on a brave smile- she let out a final goodbye and turned to Bofur who led her from the room-she could not see through her tears.

As they reached the door, the young ones swarmed her. She gave each a hug and said her goodbyes. Bofur put a hand on her back and steered her out of the house.

They walked in total silence, and Bofur kept his hand on Hana's back for comfort. She was losing a mother, much in the same way that he was.

They neared the gate; this was where they would depart. Outside was a caravan of metal for her and inside was even more metal from him. They stopped, turning towards each other.

"Promise to be safe?" asked Bofur, taking off his hat in that way that he did when he wanted to get something important across.

"Only if you do the same," said she. "This isn't goodbye you know, four months go by fast for us dwarves, just promise me you won't marry Kenaii until after I return." She said, trying to cheer him up. Bofur smiled, but his eyes were sad. Hana felt her heart ache- she would not be there for him when his mother passed. She would not be there to contain the hurricane or to wipe away his tears; she only prayed that Kenaii would do it in her stead.

"It will all be alright Bofur," she said softly. "I promise."

The dwarf grabbed her in a fierce and sudden hug. _There goes the dam_, she thought to herself as she responded by wrapping her arms around him. "Goodbye my dear sister," Bofur said, "I will see you soon."

"You will," Hana said, pulling back. "Goodbye my brother."

Their eyes lingered in each other's for another moment, but then Bofur turned away and began to walk, looking back once to give her one of his cheeky grins. Hana took a deep breath, shouldered her pack and ventured outside.

/

Thorin son of Thrain did not appreciate the fact that his company was running late, or that he had to bring that dwarf woman along. The two problems seemed to be closely related, he mused.

"Are we ready?" Balin asked as Hana came through the gate. They had four wagons full of iron, with four oxen yoked to each. Sixteen dwarves would be joining them, mostly soldiers-since the items in the caravan were worth a fortune, and although ambushes did not occur often, they still occurred. _These are good folk_, Thorin thought. Although he did not know any of them personally, they were each at least an acquaintance to him. They were decent, trustworthy people who could hold their own in a fight. _Well- each except for her_. Thorin mentally sighed- she was definitely going to be a difficulty on this journey, as were all dwarf women. But he had told Bofur that he would take her, and he never went back on his word.

"I think we are ready Balin." Thorin raised his hand to call for attention, and when all eyes turned to him he said: "This journey will take four months at the very least. If you do not wish to come I suggest you turn back now."

When not a soul moved, he continued: "We will rotate watch shifts, eight shifts a night, an hour long each. We will move on foot. Be on your guard each of you- and report suspicious behavior to Balin or I. Understand that if you purposefully cause harm to the metal, the oxen, or any other member of this company you will be sent home- alone. If there is reason for me to see you as a threat, you will be sent home. Although depending on how patient I feel, I may just kill you."

The silence that followed gave Thorin the feeling that he may have said something that he shouldn't have. Pushing any feelings of insecurity aside, he found south, and with a short call of "Move out!" he lead the company away.

/

Hana brought up the back of the caravan completely on her own, following the last wagon of iron. Each wagon had been finely crafted for strength and durability. A tarp was thrown over the metal in order to keep out the elements as well as to draw less attention to the items within. Although it would not be hard to guess what they held, Hana thought, being that there were four oxen pulling each.

Dodging occasional feces from the oxen every now and again, Hana let her thoughts wander to her situation. Upon arriving at the company- and to this point, not a single dwarf had spoken to her, though a few had given her dirty looks. She knew what they thought- that she would only be a burden- that she didn't belong. Most of them, thinking she was cursed, ignored her presence completely. Hana sighed. Bofur had offered her the larger share of what she would make on this journey (he originally offered all, but she refused.) Knowing that she would gain money from this journey eased her sorrows a small amount. However, she would have gone regardless, to help Bofur. However, despite how much she loved her brother, she could still tell it would be a long four months.

A few lonely days passed, mostly full of trudging silence and the sound of birds. Hana ate and slept alone- the only interaction she received was being awoken for watch, and grudgingly given bowls of soup. She entertained herself by counting the number of times the dwarves ahead of her grunted, for there were so many it was almost comical. A dwarf came to the back of the caravan. With his long, greying beard, she recognized him as Balin- Thorin's advisor.

"Hello," he said with a hesitant smile. "I've been going around meeting every member of the company- you're Hana…?

"Goldbeard," she finished, feeling odd since this was the first dwarf to speak to her in many days.

"Right," said Balin. "What is your position in this endeavor- may I ask?"

Hana smiled in spite of herself. It was nice to have someone actually communicate with her on their own free will- that only seemed to happen in Dale.

"I am here to take the place of Bofur, the designated metal specialist," She said, "He has decided to stay home to be with his family."

"I see." Balin said, and then after a silence: "Are these other dwarves treating you well?"

"I can't complain…" Hana said between gritted teeth.

"Good, good." Said Balin, but after a moment said- "I get the impression that you are lying to me."

Hana turned to look at him- unsure of what to say, but he spoke first. "I know these men find you a bit-odd, and to be honest, I do as well. But don't worry- there is no one here who wishes to cause you harm." Balin peered ahead, "They may start out rough around the edges, but I assure you these dwarves will evolve into good company." And then leaning over with a hand to cover his mouth he said: "Although, you're not missing much, most of them are too dull to know right from left, or north from south. You seem to be the first intelligent one I have spoken with."

Hana laughed, honestly feeling grateful that someone would be a friend on this journey. "Thank you," she said.

"My pleasure," said Balin. "I will be at the front with Thorin, if you should need me."

/

It was around noon when she heard them approaching.

Hana had stopped mid-step, feeling the ground vibrating before her. The caravan continued onward though, not seeming to notice.

She perked her ears, there were many, whatever they were. Turning back though, she saw nothing. Hana decided to climb a nearby boulder, for the noise did not seem to go away, only grow louder. Her mouth went dry when she reached the top, peering over the hill they had just crossed.

"Hey! What are you doing up there?" a dwarf asked. "Get back down before you get left behind!"

But she was not listening, for on the road behind them was a large mass of dark moving objects, far too many to fight. They had to be orcs, she reasoned, although she had never seen any before, she had heard the stories, of the nasty unreasonable creatures that were once elves, and those creatures were advancing quickly.

"We need to move!" she yelled, jumping down. Hopefully they had not spotted the company yet, there was some thick foliage surrounding them, but there was no way to be sure.

"What in Durin's name?" A dwarf cursed as she shoved passed him, breaking into a sprint towards the front of the caravan.

"Thorin!" she called as she drew nearer, ignoring the many dwarves giving her strange looks. The dwarf prince turned to her, not looking all together pleased. "Thorin," she said, "There are orcs headed our way, no less than a mile behind."

"What?" he asked, peering past her in disbelief. "I see nothing." By now the line of wagons had stopped, all eyes were on her.

"We need to get the Caravan off the road and hidden." She said. "They are coming fast."

"Why should we believe her?" said a dwarf to her left with dark sneering eyes. "She's nothing but a female!"

The other dwarves grunted in agreement, and Hana cursed. "They are coming!" she said desperately, and glaring into the dwarf princes eyes said: "You must trust me Thorin."

The dwarf prince turned to his advisor, and Balin nodded. "Better safe than sorry."

Thorin seemed to contemplate for a moment, and Hana almost burst in frustration, they would be skewered at this rate! Finally he said, "Move all of the wagons into the bush, now."

A rumble of disbelief swept over the group. "You can't be serious!" one called out.

"Do as I say!" Thorin shouted. And when the dwarves still seemed hesitant he bellowed, "Now!"

The wagons began to move off the road and into the camouflage of the surrounding forest. "If you are fooling me Hana- I will not forgive-"

"I do not lie." She said sternly. "Do not think me a burden, Thorin son of Thrain. You will regret it."

But Thorin seemed not to be listening, he was standing still and staring into the distance, he must have heard them now, she thought. Suddenly he yelled, "Take cover, all of you! Hide!"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the bush, pushing her behind a thick tree and then finding one for himself.

Hana prayed that they had all found shelter, and that the wagons were properly hidden. Moments passed like failing heartbeats as she heard the footsteps grow in volume. They were nearing.

Metal clanged and deep grunts rang out for many moments; they seemed to be passing unaware of the dwarves in the cover of the forest. She looked over at Thorin, he simply put a finger to his lips.

She dared not peek out from behind the tree until the last set of footsteps was properly faded, and even then, she waited for Thorin's orders.

When the dwarves slowly moved out of their cover, Hana felt a sigh of relief. They were gone. The wagons were hastily pulled back to the center of the road. Many eyes were on her, some in surprise that she had been useful, and some in outrage that they took orders from a woman. She felt her ears turn red.

"What do you think orcs are doing this close to Thranduil's borders?" asked Balin, and Thorin only shook his head. "Mahal knows why, it does not matter, as long as we are careful and avoid conflict when possible."

"I believe we owe you our thanks," said Balin, turning to Hana with a smile, "Although many of these dwarves are far too stubborn to admit that you were right and they were wrong." His eyes glanced to Thorin, and he nudged the dwarf prince with his elbow.

"Thank you," he through clenched teeth, not meeting her eyes. "Be on your watch," he called to all of the dwarves, "We move now."

/

They stopped for camp a few miles from the Greenwood border that night, Thorin called for attention after they had brought the wagons round to circle the campsite. Each dwarf stopped what they were doing to listen.

"We plan to move southwest." He said, "King Thranduil has granted us passage through the Greenwood for the time being. We must remain on our guard though, for the elves did not promise to protect us, only to refrain from killing us. Try to get rest, we leave at sunrise. I will take the first watch."

The others quickly set up camp. While some were starting a fire or bringing food out, Hana was not in the mood to eat, nor did she think that they would want her company for dinner. So she quietly set up her bedroll away from the rest and tried to sleep, just as she had done the nights before.

/

"Hana did not eat." Balin said as he came to Thorin when most of the dwarves had gone to sleep. "She seems to be very decent you know. And we would have had to face all of those orcs if not for her."

Thorin looked down; the events of the day had been plaguing him. She had proven him wrong, and defeat tasted bitter. "I know." Thorin said, "I admit I have been unfair to her, telling her she would be a burden and then expecting her not to be. I am just wary as of now. I do not want Thror or my father to think less of me, this expedition must not have any problems."

"And she prevented a problem today," said Balin, and the dwarf prince was silent, for he did not like to be wrong.

"Thorin," Balin started, "I do not know why you feel that you must impress Thrain or Thror. They already think the world of you, I would know." When that seemed to have little effect on him, Balin continued with a sigh "You are not alone you know, I will always be here to help."

Thorin smiled, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know, and I am grateful for it. Get some rest Balin."

/

Hana awoke to a hand gently shaking her shoulder to wake her from her sleep. She slowly rolled out of the mess of her blankets to see Thorin kneeling next to her. "Your turn for watch," he said, and Hana nodded, looking for a barren patch of rock to sit on, for if she became too comfortable she would surely fall back asleep. As she moved to her spot however, she found that Thorin followed, taking a seat beside her and then handing her a bowl.

"Balin told me you had not eaten." He said as Hana accepted the stew, "You need to keep up your strength-"

"So that I won't be a burden?" she finished quietly, eyes downcast. She spooned some of the stew into her mouth. When Thorin responded in brooding silence, she looked over at him- trying to tell if she had crossed the line, but his face betrayed nothing. Thinking twice, she muttered a soft, "Thank you for the food."

Thorin's head leaned up to look at the stars, and after a moment of deep hesitation he solemnly said, "I…am sorry."

Hana tried her best to not spew soup. Had that really just occurred?

"You saved us all today, and I owe you an apology for how I have behaved. I should not have called you a burden before truly knowing you, and for that I am sorry."

Hana was unsure of how to react, but after a moment she met his eyes, and with a soft smile of hesitation she said, "I forgive you."

Thorin smiled back- but soon realized what he was doing and stopped.

"You should get some rest," said Hana awkwardly- and Thorin nodded, getting to his feet. "Goodnight Hana," he said, moving to his sleeping area.

"Goodnight Thorin, son of Thrain" she called back.

/

**Well there ya go folks! I don't have much to say, other than reviews are ALWAYS appreciated.**

**-Infinityscripts**

I claim no rights to any of Tolkien's literary works, nor to any part of Peter Jackson's film trilogies. I OWN NOTHING.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Capture

Many days passed and Thorin had not said another word to Hana other than the occasional "Hello," and "Goodnight," after a while she began to forget what he sounded like, and it made her jump whenever he rumbled something in his baritone voice that inexplicably sent shivers up her spine.

She would occasionally exchange a glance with him and in rare instances, a smile. She did not find this too bothersome however, for now the other dwarves seemed to have found some respect for her after what had happened with the orcs. They no longer gave her dirty looks- she had even been involved in conversation once or twice.

As days turned into weeks, most of the dwarves forgot about the incident of the orcs. They were venturing further and further into the greenwood, and Hana could not help but be overcome by the uneasy feeling that she was being watched. When she expressed this to Balin, who was the closest thing she had to a friend on this mission, the aging dwarf said:

"You _are_ being watched. Just because Thranduil is allowing us through his woods does not mean that he trusts us. I reckon we are constantly being watched. No worries though, we are under a pact, they will not harm us if we do not harm them." Although it was difficult at first, she came to accept the fact, and even ignore it at times.

One early morning right after her watch, Thorin gave her the command to go and scout the area ahead, for (even though he did not wish to admit it) she had proven that she had far keener eyes and ears than the rest. Hana quietly traveled through the wood, keeping every footstep as silent as possible. She searched the trees for wood elves, and although she did not see any, she still sensed their presence. Coming to the side of a gurgling stream, she sighed quietly, enjoying the pleasant scenery.

Hana was search for a stone to skip when she noticed the footprints, a pair of heavy boots fresh in the mud. The tracks couldn't have been more than an hour old, for they were still fairly deep. Turning she found that they led from the east, as she could also see broken twigs from where they had emerged from the brush in that direction. She swiveled to examine the footprints, far too heavy and sloppy for any wood elf to have created, and yet not wide enough to be any dwarf's. _Not an orc_ she thought, orc prints would be very deep because of how large the creatures were and how much metal they carried. They had to have been the footprints of a mortal man. Following the tracks, she found they continued on to the southwest, she stopped where she stood. They led to where her company was camped.

She headed slightly to the left of the footprints so that she would not run directly into their owners. Soon Hana was running, praying that she would not be too late to warn her company. She was stopped however, when a hand gripped her arm and yanked her back against the solidness of a man's chest. She felt the cold steel of a knife press into her throat.

"I suggest you try not to scream."

/

Thorin cursed very loudly when he saw the first member of his company get shot. They had been gathered around in a circle, eating a harsh breakfast, when a high pitched whistling sound filled the air, followed by an arrow protruding from a dwarf to his rights chest. The dwarf fell to the ground, and the rest of the company stared in shock for a moment, before Thorin shouted, "We are under attack! Arm yourselves fools!"

Immediately hands went to find weapons- chaos erupted, each dwarf moved into the brush to fight. Their attackers were unseen, hiding in the trees, Thorin thought as he grabbed his sword and headed the direction in which the first arrow had come from. He stopped however when he heard a cry, and turned to see another dwarf, the newest recruit he realized, fall to the ground, an arrow in his thigh. Thorin rushed to the young dwarf.

"Help me!" he bellowed in bewilderment, clenching at his wounded leg. "I've got you-"Thorin said, kneeling beside him. But just as he gathered the dwarf in his arms, a weight shook him and a sickening thud sounded. He looked to find an arrow going through the dwarf's throat. The boy gasped for air, but only choked on his own blood. His eyes were wild with fear. Thorin waited, expecting an arrow to hit himself, but none came. The boy grabbed at his tunic, coughing and spewing blood. Slowly though, his shaking stopped, and the recruit fell limp.

The horror that overcame him then mixed with rage as he examined the scene before him. Men had emerged from the trees, armed with swords. He counted at least thirty. _Far too many_ he thought as he watched a dwarf get gutted. Cursing, he stood, taking up his sword and charging the nearest man.

Their swords collided as the man turned to meet Thorin. The dwarf sidestepped a sudden blow, and then blocked another, these men were moving fast. As the man raised his sword to render him fatal, Thorin lunged, his sword traveling through the man's abdomen. The image of the young dwarf still flashing in his mind, he turned to his next opponent. Metal met metal as they went to battle, but this man was not as quick as the last one, and Thorin quickly disarmed him, and then severed his head.

He stopped however, when the situation came into focus. He counted the bodies, eight men lie dead six dwarves had been lost, six too many. He had not been shot at, nor attacked with the ferocity of what the others had received. Realization dawning on him, he yelled, "Enough!"

The men stopped at once, and despite the swords held to them, the dwarves turned to face him as well. His assumption must have been correct.

"What do you want of us? Where is your leader?" he asked. A man came forward, pulling down his hood to reveal stark white skin, ashen hair, and sinister green eyes.

"My name is Fradun, son of Dradun." He said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "May I ask what these dwarves are doing in this wood?"

"None of yer' business you black eyed coward!" a dwarf bellowed, and Fradun moved to place his sword against the dwarf's chest. "Thorin son of Thrain, you will answer me or he will die."

"We are on an expedition." said Thorin, trying to keep any trace of desperateness from his voice. How had this all gone so wrong so quickly?

"Oh?" Fradun asked in a smirking tone. "And for what purpose is this expedition?"

"We are going to trade iron with the kingdom of Rohan," said Balin, and all heads turned to him. He kept his sword ready.

"And who are you?" asked Fradun.

Balin's eyes were unflinching, his voice strong. "I am Balin son of Fundin, the advisor of this expedition."

Fradun's head swiveled around. "And the rest of these dwarves travelling with you?" he asked, "What is their purpose here?"

"They are simply foot soldiers." said Thorin. "Here to protect the iron."

"We can negotiate!" said Balin, "There doesn't have to be any further bloodshed."

"'Simply foot soldiers' eh?" Fradun enquired, repeated Thorin's words in a mocking tone. "I fear, Balin, son of Fundin, that there does have to be further bloodshed." He said, and drove his sword into the heart of the dwarf in front of him. Voices rang out as he crumbled to the ground, turning lifeless after a few compulsions. Thorin felt his mind reeling, this could not be happening.

"The prince and the advisor stay alive." He said. "You may execute the rest."

"No!" shouted Thorin, lunging for Fradun, but two men grabbed him from behind. One gripped the elbow of his sword hand and pushed, successfully popping his shoulder out of place, causing Thorin to unwillingly drop his sword. The two forces behind him wrenched his arms behind his back, and began to tie his wrists. Thorin struggled and fought and spat, but in the end, after four men had joined in, they successfully pinned him to the ground and bound his hands. He looked up at the scene before him, tears in his eyes. The world seemed to crash down on him as he watched the dwarves before him fall, swords in their abdomens, necks, and backs. They were heavily outnumbered, and although he prayed fervently for their victory, the last dwarf fell.

A scream of agony wrenched itself from his throat. Fradun approached Balin, smirking.

"I fear I may have killed off your company." He said in an innocent voice, and as Balin raised his sword to fight, he shook his head. "There are three bowmen with arrows currently trained on your precious prince." He said. "I suggest you drop your weapon."

Balin let it fall to the ground, but the fury was still in his eyes. "What do you want?"

"I am taking Prince Thorin and the goods for ransom." He said. "And you will go and fetch it."

Balin spat at the man's feet, and he laughed. "If that is supposed to faze me, you are wrong. I will hold Thorin at the fortress of Dol Guldur until you bring me six million gold pieces-"

"Sir!" a man interrupted, walking in the clearing from the brush to the north.

"What is it Rosin?" he asked, but his eyes widened when he realized what the man had with him, or rather who.

"I found this one down the river bend, sir."

Thorin craned his neck to see Hana. The man held a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back so that he could hold his knife against the expanse of her throat. She was not crying Thorin realized, she was actually betraying no emotion at all, she simply stood as still as possible, for the blade was already beginning to knick her. He saw tears of shock form in her eyes when they searched the scene before her. They travelled down to Thorin, looking bewildered and helpless. But she swallowed it, and offered him a small, brave smile.

And despite their differences, he swore to Mahal that he would not allow that to be the last thing she did.

"Kill her-" Fradun began to say, but Thorin interrupted with a shout, "Don't!"

The man held up a hand to stall the knife and turned to him, green eyes curious. "And why shouldn't she die, Thorin, son of Thrain? What makes her special?"

"You cannot kill her," Thorin said, mind racing, he latched on to the first explanation he could find. "She is my wife."

Silence rang out, neither Balin nor Hana's eyes widened, although they said nothing.

"Is she now?" inquired Fradun. "All the more reason to kill her I suppose."

"Sir, if I may," said Rosin from behind Hana, and Fradun gestured for him to continue.

"I do not think we should kill her." He said.

"And why is that?"

"Well it's obvious," said Rosin, "She must be important to him, or he would not defend her so strongly. They are likely in a courtship, but he just wants her to seem more important so we will spare her."

"Your point is?"

"My point is," said Rosin, "If we take her with us and hold her for ransom as well, the very worst that will happen is that they will not pay for her, and then we can just kill her off. If she is worth a ransom however, then we might assume a rather high one, especially if they are married. We could make a decent profit. However if we were to kill her now, there is no chance at all."

"Again you counsel me as if you were my advisor." said Fradun, "But you are right." He turned to Balin. "You will return to Erebor and tell king Thror that we hold his grandson for six million gold pieces, and his wife for five."

When Balin did not move, Fradun's voice rose in volume and maliciousness. "I know of the wealth of Erebor, I know Thror can pay. If any dwarf attempts an attack, I will not hesitate to kill them." He violently shoved Balin to the ground. "Go on now Master Dwarf, before I lose my patience."

Balin's eyes met Thorin's, a silent apology in them. Thorin simply stared back, unsure of what to do. The elder dwarf moved to his feet, and picking up his sword said, "Your mission will fail." and with that, he turned and disappeared into the trees.

"Tie their hands to the back of the last cart." He said, and men roughly picked Thorin up and shoved him towards the cart. His hands were soon tightly bound to it, and Hana was thrown beside him, her hands bound as well.

"It will soon be dawn. We stop at nightfall." Said Fradun, "Leave the dead to the crows."

The man's eyes met Thorin's, "I hope you'll be comfortable, my prince."

/

Hana and Thorin walked many miles that first day, for if they had slowed for even a moment, the crack of a whip against their backs would push them onward. Not once did the company stop, Fradun wished to put as much space between himself and the scene of the crime as possible.

Hana shuddered, certain that the bodies she had seen that day would drive her mad for the rest of her life. She shoved down the fear that was prickling up inside of her. At least she wasn't alone, she reasoned with herself, looking at Thorin. At least she wasn't dead.

No meals were given, and by the time they had stopped for the night Hana was completely exhausted, Thorin didn't look too different- drenched in sweat and shaky. A man untied their ropes from the cart and led them to sit against a tree as the rest set up camp. Hana and Thorin sat in silence, watching their captors move about with wary eyes. A few minutes later they were given a loaf of bread and a satchel of water to share. Both ate in complete silence, cherishing the food they had been given. Soon they had eaten all of the meager meal, and Hana forced herself to ignore the dissatisfied rumbles of her stomach- wallowing in her misfortune would not make it go away. Instead she decided to focus on the dwarf next to her. He had caught his breath by now, and seemed to be observing his surroundings.

Hana looked out at the company of men. Only one tent had been set up in the clearing, and that was for Fradun. Their captor was inside consulting with some of his men. The others had built a fire and were fixing their own meals. Thorin and Hana were given little attention from where they sat. Hana almost began to muse an escape plan over in her head, at least until she noticed that one pair of hazel eyes were upon them. She recognized the man on the opposite side of the clearing as Rosin, the one who had first captured her. He sat against a rock, hood and cloak pulled up around him with his bow at his side. Hana realized that if they were to attempt escape now- they would ultimately fail.

"Are you alright?" Thorin asked, interrupting her thoughts. Hana met his gaze. "Yes." She said quietly. "Not too sure about you though, your shoulder is out of place."

"Indeed," he said, experimentally twisting his arm and then wincing.

"Let me help." Hana said, and when Thorin gave her a questioning look, she said "I've done it before- Bofur displaces his shoulder all of the time while working in the mines."

_Actually only once or twice_ she mentally added, but she felt like she needed to help him. She wanted to establish a sense of trust, seeing as they may be together for quite some time still.

Finally Thorin nodded. "Alright."

Hana took a deep breath; this would be different with bound hands. She gingerly gripped his forearm and rotated it up at a ninety degree angle, then to the side so his arm was parallel with his head.

Thorin winced, but said nothing. _He's tough_ she thought- Bofur would be whining like a child right now. She brought her cuffed hand to rest underneath his bicep, and willed away the blush that spread across her cheeks when she felt the taught mass of muscle beneath her palms.

"What is it?" Thorin asked; a smirk in his eyes. He was well aware of the effect he was having on her. Hana shook her head to dispel some unwanted thoughts.

"I'm going to pop it back into place," she said. "Relax."

She felt rather than saw the dwarf prince release the tension in his body, which was when she pushed his arm upward until his fist passed his head, and there was an audible 'pop'. She then released his arm. Thorin hissed in pain, but after taking a moment to recover he stretched it out. All seemed to be in working order.

"Thank you." said the dwarf prince, granting her a half nod. Hana nodded in return.

/

It was well past dark when the men had all fallen asleep, _all save that one_ Thorin thought to himself, watching Rosin as he sharpened his arrows some yards away. Already he had worked through several scenarios for escape in his mind; each one had a fault though. During the day they were constantly surrounded by guards, with their hands bound tightly. During the night they were watched by the hawk like men, ready to string an arrow at a moment's notice. Their best chance at escape would be somewhere in between, when they were either being tied or untied from the cart.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft whispering voice beside him.

"Thorin?"

"Hmm?" he replied, keeping his tone down, for any guard could secretly be listening.

"What are we going to do?" Hana asked- midnight blue eyes meeting his stormy grey ones. It was dark, but he was accustomed to the dark from all of his time spent in Erebor, and he could see her features. She was scared, he thought, her eyes were wide and her hands shaky.

"I do not know what we will do." He whispered in frustration. "They have taken my weapons and my tools. Our escape alive is very unlikely. All we can do is hope my grandfather will pay the debt."

Hana's eyes fell in defeat. She let out a breath. "Oh…"

"What?"

"Thror will not ransom me- will he? She asked, not meeting he gaze. "Seeing as I hold no importance to him, or you, or Erebor." Thorin drew a breath, forcing himself to not dwell on the consequences of her words, if left with these men; the very best result would be a quick death, but otherwise…

"No," he said. "I do not think he will." Hana said nothing- only looking off into the distance. Thorin mentally sighed. In trying times sacrifices had to be made, but it still hurt him to think she would die like that.

"I will not let them keep you," Thorin said, and Hana swiveled to look at him. He met her gaze unflinchingly. He was not sure why he felt like he must protect her, a strange dwarf with no beard. It was just his sense of chivalry, he convinced himself.

"I promise you we will escape." He breathed, barely above a whisper. "Besides- if I were to be ransomed it would only lead to other criminals being more inclined do this again in the future. We must at least try to escape."

He saw the relief flush over her face; _Did she really think I would abandon her to her death?_ He questioned, somewhat troubled.

"How _will _we get out?" she whispered, looking at him expectantly, Thorin sighed. "I will think of something, but for the mean time- you must sleep."

Hana nodded slowly. "You as well."

As much as he wanted to stay up and contemplate a plan- she was right. It would do neither of them good to die from exhaustion. Thorin nodded in agreement. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight," she responded, closing her eyes and leaning back against the tree, "Thorin?" she started after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for not letting them kill me today."

Thorin looked down at his hands, he would've saved all of them if he could. At least he had saved one.

"Do you think we'll get through this?" she asked. Images of the young dwarf spewing blood filled his mind, and he clenched his fist.

"I certainly hope so,"

**/**

**That took FOREVER to type up. But so worth it I hope you enjoyed this one, the battle scene was probably my favorite part about writing this chapter, although the fluff towards the end was nice too. What do you think? Is Thorin too out of character? Any ideas for where this should head? Reviews are appreciated!**

**-Infinityscripts**

**I claim no rights to any of Tolkien's literary works, nor to any part of Peter Jackson's film trilogies. I OWN NOTHING.**

**Original text**

Contribute a better translation


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Whispers in the night.

Rosin always kept an eye on them, even when he was not asked to. He watched as the two dwarves were whipped and pushed to walk all day, with little food and water provided. He watched them at night, training his ears to hear every word of their conversations.

They had yet to come up with a feasible escape plan, but they were getting closer as each night passed. Thorin's ideas grew in variety and lessened in flaw, and it was only a matter of time until he came up with a solid plan.

_These men are fools_ he thought to himself. They paid the two dwarves almost no attention, thinking that their prisoners would never dare attempt escape, let alone succeed. _They are going to regret it_. Rosin thought as he sat down one night. Thorin's eyes met his from across the way. The staring contest that ensued was unflinching for minutes, until Thorin finally turned when the she-dwarf began to speak to him. Rosin shut out all outside senses and listened.

/

"I'm sorry about how things turned out," said Hana, as Thorin turned to her, meeting her dark blue eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The dwarves that were traveling with us," She whispered. "Did you know most of them?"

Thorin gazed down at his bloodstained shirt, he could still hear the thud of the arrow into the recruit, and he could still see his wild, fearful eyes.

"No." he said. "I did not."

"But that does not mean you are alright." Said she, and Thorin turned and looked at her incredulously. "What?"

"You've been staring off at nothing, almost never saying a word to me." She said, "It has been three days, and it still bothers you, all of the bloodshed. You try and hide it, but it still hurts, even if none of those dwarves were your friends."

Thorin was silent for a moment, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, and then he whispered, "You did not see what I did. You saw the bodies, but you did not see them fall. You are still innocent of those scenes."

"Thorin…"

"You have not failed them like I have." He said. His voice shook with grief although he tried to hide it. "These were decent dwarves. They had wives to go home to and children to feed. I was to lead them," His fists shook in their bonds. "I was to lead them and now they are dead. You have no idea… none, of what it feels like to be a maker of widows. You are not plagued by the thought that you will one day have to face their children and tell them that their fathers have been massacred." Thorin stared at her helplessly, tears sitting in his eyes but not falling. "You will never understand that Hana."

She scooted a little closer to him, and the dwarf prince stiffened when he felt the weight of her head rest against his right shoulder, but as uncomfortable as he was, he did not move. "You are right, Thorin, son of Thrain." She breathed. "I will never understand what you have gone through, what you will go through. The grief and the guilt that you have felt and that which is ahead, I will never face in the same capacity as yourself."

After some silence, she continued, "But I promise I will help you if I can."

"Why would you?" he asked, his voice sounding bitter in his own throat, "I will probably only bring harm to you as well."

"Do not lose faith in yourself so quickly," whispered Hana. "There is nothing you could have done to save them."

The dwarf prince sighed, feeling his heart drop a bit. Deep down he knew he had done the best that he could for his company, but that did not make him feel any better. "My only wish…" he started, "My only wish is that I would have died with them."

"Do not say that." Hana said, eyebrows scrunching together in frustration. "Be thankful for the life Mahal has granted you, he has allowed you to live for a reason-"

"Why does it matter to you?" Thorin snapped, moving away from her, "You cannot ever help me with this burden. My men are dead and you will not change that."

He felt something in him fall as he saw the hurt in her eyes, and he winced, remembering the harshness in his voice. Why had he done that? She was trying to help him after all.

"Nothing will change their fate Thorin" She whispered, and he looked over to see her face steady, her eyes on his, "These thoughts will plague you, and you will face this guilt for a very long time. The only thing I can do is keep you from facing it alone." She said quietly.

The dwarf prince's eyes softened as he felt his ire ebb away. Her offer was the kindest gift he had received in a long time.

"Thank you." He said, and after a very hesitant moment, he felt himself move back next to her-although- Thorin realized with a tinge of discontent- this time she did not lay her head on his shoulder "I believe I owe you an apology."

"No, you do not," she said with a sigh, "You have lost much in this past week. I know that this trade was of great importance to Erebor."

Thorin glanced at Rosin; the man's eyes were still trained on them. Could he hear their conversation?

"It actually was not as significant as you may think," said Thorin, "Erebor is prospering so much right now that if Thror were to pay both of us out then it would hardly make a dent in our overall funds."

"Why will he not pay me out then?" she asked, "If he has more than enough money, and I am a citizen to his kingdom, then why leave me with those men?"

"It is not as simple as that." Said Thorin, feeling his insides grow bitter. "Thror is not the same king that he once was."

"The dragon sickness?" she asked hesitantly.

Thorin nodded. "My grandfather always swore he would never let it overcome him like it had taken his fathers before him, yet I can see it in his eyes, how he looks more lovingly upon his treasury then his own son… or grandson. At this rate I would not be in too much shock if he refused to ransom _me_."

"What do you mean?" Hana asked, her voice rising in disbelief. "You are his kin! Does he think you worthless compared to gold?"

"Sometimes, yes, I believe he does." Thorin said, biting the inside of his cheek. Why was he saying these things to her?

"Well, you're not you know." Hana said, Thorin turned to look at her, "You can be an annoyance at times, Thorin son of Thrain, you really can." She met his eyes with a smile, "But that does not mean you are worthless. I believe you are good at making decisions and thinking for yourself, you are honest and brave and worth more than any sum of gold that Thror can obtain. I only hope that he will realize it before the end."

Thorin let her words settle in him, it felt different when she praised him then when Balin did, for he felt the presence of a small, _extremely_ small, flutter of happiness in his stomach that he could not ignore.

"If we make it out of this alive, I will help you finish the trade," she said, "I will not allow your grandfather to think of you as insignificant."

Thorin felt a smile cross his face; Hana was indeed different from other dwarf women he had known. "You can be an annoyance at times as well, Hana of the Goldbeard clan," he said, a warm light in his eyes, "But you have my thanks."

/

Balin son of Fundin wiped the sweat from his forehead as he took a shaky step into Erebor. He had run unceasingly since the attack, as fast as his old legs could carry him. He had been lucky enough to cross paths with a farmer travelling with two ponies hooked to a cart of hay at the edge of greenwood, and upon offering an extremely large sum for the stronger pony; Balin found himself galloping towards Erebor. It had been six days since they were first attacked when he arrived at the lonely mountain, and despite his lack of sleep and sore rear, he ran towards the chambers of the high, where King Thror was seated in all of his glory, and his son next to him.

"What is it?" Thrain asked, rushing towards Balin as he fell to the ground in exhaustion, Thror remained seated, but still watched the exchange with interest. "What has happened to the company? What has become of my son?"

Balin saw the heartbreak in Thrain's single eye, the fear that was on his face, he sighed in desolation, "The Company was ambushed by men from the west. All were slaughtered save Thorin and I." Balin bit his tongue before he could mention Hana, for he knew deep within that Thror would never help her, he would consult with Thrain later, he decided. Said dwarf looked at Balin in hopefulness, he held his gaze, and then shook his head, how he wished he could have given him good news. "Sir, your son, he has been taken for ransom. They have taken him to Dol Guldur."

"How much money do they ask?" Thrain inquired immediately, helping Balin to his feet, but all eyes turned to Thror as he cleared his throat.

"I believe the treasury is mine to command." He said, "And I am not too certain of whether we really should pay thisransom."

Thrain clenched his fist with anger, "You cannot be serious!" he shouted. "He is your kin, your heir! Does he mean not a thing to you?"

"Do not speak to me in such a way, Thrain!" he bellowed, rising to his feet to point an accusing finger at his son. "I am your king and you will do as I command."

Thrain bowed his head in rage but did not say another word. Balin felt his insides squirm in despair.

Thror sat down into his throne, a dark look overtaking his eyes. "If Thorin is really my kin, then he will find a way to escape."

/

It was deep into the night when Hana awoke to a shuffling sound near her. She looked to her side and found Thorin. His face was contorted with anguish and sorrow. "No…" he whispered softly.

_Another nightmare, _she thought to herself, watching him grunt and roll over from where he lay in the grass. This was the third time such a thing had occurred in their week as prisoners, and she had come to know that he was quite the noise maker in his sleep. Hana sighed, bringing her hand out to pull a strand of hair away from the dwarf prince's face. She jumped as his eyes flung open, and his hands shot out to grip her wrist, after a moment though, she saw the look of anxiousness in his eyes ebb away. "Hana," he said.

"Thorin." She whispered, flushed that he had caught her in the gesture.

"What were you doing?" he asked, bringing her arms to rest in front of her as if they were made of porcelain. Hana shrugged, "I felt I should wake you, you looked distressed… What was this one about?"

Thorin closed his eyes, and for a minute she thought he had gone back asleep, but then his deep voice rang out, "I was in Dale," he said, "There was fire. I watched as parents and little children ran from their homes, but in the end they all burned."

Hana shuddered at the thought; Dale was like a second home to her. "Well it was just a dream," she assured.

"Do you not work there with Bofur?" he asked, moving to his back to look at the stars.

Hana nodded. "I do, although Bofur will not work there much longer, he has a family to tend to, and I do not."

"No?" Thorin asked, "Where are they?"

"Dead," she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

The dwarf prince looked at her, a quiet apology in his eyes. "I did not know."

"Did you think them alive?" she asked dryly, "It's not as if anyone in Erebor exactly looks like me. Have you not wondered why I have no beard?"

"I have," said Thorin, "Quite a bit actually."

Hana rolled to her back, wondering why the dwarf prince was so open to speak; usually he went right back to sleep after she woke him. "What rumors have you heard of me?" she asked hesitantly.

"I have heard that you are cursed, and also that you are diseased." The dwarf prince rumbled.

Hana sighed. "Those rumors are not the true ones," she said quietly, feeling Thorin's eyes on her.

"And which ones are?"

She bit her lip, "That I am a half blood."

Hana waited for it, the exclamation of shock, the look of disgust in his face which would be followed by him never again speaking to her, but she saw none of this when she turned to face Thorin. She just saw him gaze at her in confusion.

"How is this?" he asked.

Hana looked to the sky, trying to remember exactly where her story began, finally she asked, "How old are you Thorin?"

"Ninety six," he said softly.

"I am ninety," she explained, and Thorin nodded, listening.

"Do you know of how we used to trade silver with Gondor?"

"Yes," Thorin said, "Gondor was one of our greatest trade partners, at least up until-"he stopped midsentence, eyes leaving hers. "At least up until ninety years ago."

Hana nodded. "My mother Hasl of the Goldbeard clan was married to a man named Brunrim of the Stealthhand clan. They were miners- on an expedition much like this- bringing silver to Gondor. They were to oversee the trade; they did exactly as I am doing on this expedition."

Thorin was completely silent, his gaze not quite meeting hers.

"The trade was successful. The company was returning home when they were stopped by soldiers of Gondor." She said, biting the inside of her cheek in an effort to dispel her onslaught of emotions. She would not make a fool of herself now.

"The men claimed that the company had kidnapped some of their men. Of course the dwarves argued that they had done no such thing, but to avoid conflict they allowed the soldiers to take two dwarves back to Gondor until their men were returned. The soldiers chose my mother and Brunrim." She was attempting to keep her voice steady, although she was shaking on the inside.

"Brunrim had caught the fever and died in Gondor not long after. Your great grandfather Dain, who was the king at the time, managed to consult with the steward. My mother was released from their prison, but by then it was too late, some of the other prisoners had…" she swallowed the lump in her throat. "They had…"

"You do not need to say it." Thorin whispered.

Hana took a moment to gather her wits. "My mother returned to Erebor with child not of Brunrim." She said. "She lived in a dwarrowdam shelter for the next few months, and when she was close to having me she fell ill. She probably would have survived the sickness, but my birth made her weak, and it consumed her not a week after I came to be."

She sighed, looking up to the stars as if they would give the answer to her troubles.

"I went to live in an orphanage for my first ten years, and that was where Bofur's mother, who worried she would never have children, found me and took me in. Since then Breva has had five boys and has been the equivalent of a mother to me, and Bofur a brother."

"Wait-"Thorin interrupted, "So you and Bofur… you're not courting?"

"No," Hana said with a chuckle. "Although most people seem to think we are. Bofur is like my kin, and besides, he courts another girl."

"And what about you?" Thorin asked after a moment, "Do you court anyone?"

Hana laughed, a short, dry laugh that she hoped sounded semi-natural. "Do you really think that there is a dwarf alive that would court me?" she asked, "I have no beard, I am not exactly beautiful."

Thorin shrugged, "Beauty is a matter of opinion."

"Many people must have the same opinion then," said Hana softly, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice, for she had always known that she would end up alone. Thorin frowned and she let out a sigh.

"Do you think crossly of me now Thorin?" she asked hesitantly, quietly, and when he looked at her she continued, "Now that you know the truth that I am a bastard child and not a true dwarf, what do you think of me? Besides that I am a burden?"

"I do not think of you as a burden," he said lowly. "I do not find myself wishing to distance myself from you. You are my equal Hana, and not a burden to bear."

"What's that?" Hana asked, grin on her face, "Did Thorin son of Thrain just say something that did not directly praise him? Something that was even, _humbling?_ Because I am finding it hard to believe."

"Do not make me say it twice." Said Thorin, a smile in his voice.

/

**Hello hello! I was originally going to add a lot more to this chapter, but I decided it was best to end it here, cause the next one is going to be a start with a bit of a cliff hanger (literally), and unlike the lovely Moffat and Gatiss, I am not addicted to putting cliff hangers at the end of every single thing I write. If you've actually read this fic to chapter four, you are AWESOME! Any critiquing or reviewing would be much appreciated, also any suggestions of where to send this story. I already have a basic plot, but I would love to add in any ideas you might have.**

**-Infinityscripts**

**I claim no rights to any of Tolkien's literary works, nor to any part of Peter Jackson's film trilogies. I OWN NOTHING.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Falling

It was noon and the caravan was moving on a road carved into a rocky cliff side- below was a straight drop into a canyon of jagged rocks, and above was a steep hillside with dangerously loose rocks. The group edged the wagons as far away from the drop as they could, moving slowly and steadily. Rosin walked directly behind Thorin and Hana, keeping the two dwarves from communicating with each other.

The dwarf prince attempted to come up with an escape plan, but his mind continued to wander to the previous night. He could not help but wonder why exactly he said those things- perhaps only to comfort her.

And then there was the conversation about Bofur- why had he a felt an inexplicable sense of happiness when Hana had denied any form of a courtship with the miner? And why would it matter to him if she hadn't?

But the main question that stirred in his mind was: why did he even care? For the dwarf prince suddenly had an urge to befriend her, and he did not understand why.

Although deep down inside, he would admit to himself that he knew. Hana was different from the princesses and noblewomen his father had attempted to unite him with, she was more real- more of a person. She did not feign interest in his words; she actually listened and tried to understand him, which was more than what he could say for many of the dwarves in Erebor.

Unlike his many admirers, she had no money to her name; she did not bat her eyelashes at him or compliment how he looked. She called him an annoyance and questioned his every word. She praised his integrity over his appearance- the one time that he thought that she may comment on his muscles; she wrenched his arm back instead.

He glanced over to her. At first sight she would look like any other dwarrowdam. She did have the same shape as one, even if it was a little smaller. She had a square face and long thick hair, something that would surely associate her with his race. The only thing that made her different was the lack of a beard.

Hana was covered in freckles, they speckled her cheeks, nose, chin and forehead, also traveling down the expanse of her neck and arms, every spot of skin he could see it seemed, had a few freckles. A thick, white scar cut across the back of her hand, and another just below the side of her chin. She must have felt his eyes, for she turned to him and met his eyes, as if silently asking 'what?'

The dwarf prince shrugged in a way that he hoped looked nonchalant, and turned his attention back to the road ahead. He attempted to cut off all thoughts of Hana, but they kept returning. Finally a small voice erupted into his head, one that sounded strangely like Balin. _Forget about her. _It said, _you cannot befriend her, let alone court her. She is a merchant, a toy maker and seller, as well as a mixed blood, hardly that of nobility. Do you think your father would tolerate you with her?_

An even smaller voice in the back of his head questioned if he really cared, for Hana was so much more than what she appeared. She did not worship him at his feet or bow to his every whim, she did not see him as the prince of the mightiest kingdom of the east, she saw him as just _Thorin._ He had no idea how much he needed someone like that until now.

But then Thorin remembered Thror, and how hard he had worked to impress his grandfather and king. He had studied for years, learning how to wield a sword as well as gaining an education so that he too could one day lead Erebor to prosper. She could distract him from all of it. Would he really throw all of that away for a girl he had known for a month?

_No_. whispered the voice in his head, as Thorin felt himself coming to that conclusion. He shoved aside all thoughts of Hana and instead considered an escape plan. It would have been unrealistic to do it then, for the way ahead was blocked by the wagons and weapon readied men. To his left was a cliff and to his right a steep hillside, behind him walked Rosin, who he was certain could render him immobile if he chose to do so.

/

The day passed in trudging silence. By sundown the company had still not cleared the cliffs. Fradun gave orders to stop the caravan where it was and rest as far away from the drop off as possible. They would continue in the morning.

When Hana settled next to Thorin who was leaned up against the rock, he felt himself tense. Thankfully she was not sitting to close to him, nor looking at him with her eyes that were impossibly deep.

"There are no stars," she murmured, looking at the sky, "It is strangely dark"

"Indeed." said Thorin, keenly aware of Rosin sitting not far away.

"What will you do when we get back to Erebor?" asked Hana, turning to him. Thorin shrugged. "Whatever is expedient to my kingdom."

Hana sighed, staring into the valley at the side of the cliff. "Do you ever worry for your future?"

"No," said Thorin. "I have always known where my life would lead. I am to grow in wisdom and leadership, I will get married, produce and heir, and then one day when I am very old and my father dies, I will take his thrown. And when I die, I will give it to my firstborn, as is the destiny of every king of Erebor."

"So you do not have any say in how your life will turn out?" asked Hana, "You will never make any decisions for yourself?"

"It is my duty to my people," he said sternly. "You would not understand; you are only a commoner."

Hana was silent for a few moments, and Thorin wanted to beat his head against the wall, why did he always say things in such a horrible manner?

"You're right," she said softly, eyes downcast. "All I am is a commoner. Goodnight Thorin, son of Thrain."

That night they slept far apart from each other, making Thorin feel strangely empty.

A nightmare overcame him that night; he had been with his sister in the chamber of the high, listening to his father consult with Thror, when suddenly, a cold, black nothingness came up from the depths of Erebor and swallowed him whole. He awoke to the sound of his own shout, sitting up with a start; he rubbed his hands across the expanse of his face. It was strange to not be woken up by her, he turned to see Hana laying with her back to him, and Thorin sighed, lying down again. _If only she knew._

_/_

In the morning Hana and Thorin were unceremoniously kicked awake, given a bit of food, and then tied back to the wagon. The dwarf prince sighed, preparing himself for a day of sore calves. Hana still refused to so much as look at him, _Is she still angry?_ Thorin thought, cringing as he remembered how he had spoken to her the previous night, he seemed to be growing into more of an imbecile as the days passed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind him.

"I need both of you to listen to me," said Rosin, and Hana and Thorin both turned to him, but he motioned for them to turn their heads back to the front so as to not look suspicious. "There will be a rockslide in approximately two minutes. I am going to cut your ropes."

Thorin turned to him, eyes in a glare. "What do you mean?" he asked, not altogether trusting of the man who had been their jailor for the past week.

Rosin glared right back. "I meant exactly what I said, prince Thorin. If you do not allow me to do this, you will die."

"How do we know we can trust you not to stab us in the backs?" Hana hissed. "You did hold a knife to my throat."

"Look at it this way," Rosin said, unsheathing his sword and pressing it just barely against her back. Thorin saw Hana stiffen. "You can trust me and have a chance, or I shall kill you now."

"We will do as you say." Said Thorin, mind racing, if they were to cut their ropes, they could perhaps fend off Rosin and then make a break for the land behind them.

He felt a pair of arms come from behind him, and hands started to saw through his ropes with a jagged knife.

"There is a small roof like rock coming out on your right not far ahead, do you see it?" whispered Rosin. And when Thorin nodded he said, "When I give the signal, you must take Hana and we will press ourselves as close to the hillside as possible beneath it. It will hopefully hold against the oncoming boulders."

"The oncoming what?" Thorin asked, but just as he did Rosin's knife slid through his ropes and Thorin felt a rush of cool air against his skin. He did not have time to relish it, for at that moment he heard the rumbling of what was no doubt falling rock coming their way.

Rosin cursed. "Go and shield yourself, now!" he shouted.

"What of Hana?" Thorin asked, meeting her eyes that were full of fear and then turning to Rosin. "You must still cut her loose."

He shook his head, gesturing for Thorin to follow him. "There is no time!"

The rumbling grew louder as Thorin rushed towards Rosin and grabbed the knife from his hands. He then went to Hana and sawed violently at the ropes tying her wrists.

"Thorin," she said, and when he did not look at her, she spoke louder. "I am alright, just go."

"Don't be ridiculous" he said and continued on the ropes, he was about halfway through when shouts of "landslide!" and "Take cover!" filled the air. He looked up to see rocks breaking off of the hillside and falling their way. Cursing, he ripped the knife through the rope as hard as he could, and cut the rest of it through. He was pushing Hana to their shelter not a moment later. The noise was thunderous now as rocks began to fall right and left. He felt a sharp pain against his forehead, but kept running.

When they had made it he shoved her against the wall of the mountain and pressed himself in front of her in the hope that he would shield any stray pieces of debris. He felt the wind whistle behind him as more and more rocks came crashing down. He began to feel them piling up against his ankles, "Stay close," he said, for at this rate they would undoubtedly be buried alive, and if he were to die, he did not wish to die alone.

The landslide did not last long however, and after waiting a few minutes for any signs that stone was still falling, Thorin confirmed it was over and stepped away from her, and upon examining her, felt relief flush over him that she was not even scratched.

"You have a cut," Hana whispered, reaching her hand out and gently touching his temple where he had experienced the sharp pain earlier. When she brought back bloodied fingers, he said, "It can be tended to later. You are alright?"

When she nodded and he shakily took her hand. _Simply to help her through the rubble_ he told himself. Perhaps out of adrenaline or worry, she gave his hand a squeeze, and in spite of himself, he returned it.

When they emerged into the day they coughed as a thick dust came into their lungs, the air was laden with it. Several men, carts, and oxen had either been crushed by the rocks or thrown off of the road and into the valley. The dwarf prince cringed at the many bloodied limbs of both man and beast that poked out from beneath the debris. He held back his bile at the sight. They too would have faced a similar fate, if not for Rosin.

He turned, wondered where that strange man was, but as he did he noticed some of Fradun's men coming his way. They were a little worse for wear, but alive. For a moment he considered running, but there was nowhere to go. The boulders in their path would make them both slow and vulnerable, and it was not if the elves would help them.

"Should we…?" Hana began, for she seemed to be thinking the same as him. Thorin shook his head. "There is no use." He said. "Those men have bows and we are weaponless, even with all this dust, we would not make it too far before they caught us.

As the men rebound their hands, Thorin heard a grunt from his left. Turning, he saw that Rosin had injured his foot, for he was limping against another survivor from the company. They met eyes, but Rosin gave a look that said, _I will tell you later._

They were led forward, stumbling over the disaster that had claimed the lives of most of the company. It took some time to reach an area where the debris had thinned out considerably. When they did, he saw Fradun standing there, looking dirty and worn, but his captor was very much alive. Five other men stood beside him, were there only ten survivors?

"It is not safe here." Said Fradun, eyes glancing over to him. "Let us be rid of this place and then we will discuss today's events."

"And what of the dead?" asked the man that Rosin was leaning against. Fradun shook his head. "They are dead and nothing will change that. Let us make haste," he said, eyes glancing up the hillside, "I do not trust this place."

/

"You have been summoned somewhere?" Kenaii asked, eyeing the letter in Bofur's hands.

"Yes," said the dwarf, putting his mining pick into his bag and reading the half hazardously scribbled writing on the paper that had been slipped to him not to long ago. "It says I am to speak with Balin, in the chambers of the high, immediately."

"Sounds important," said the frizzy haired dwarf. "You should probably go."

Bofur nodded. "I just need to drop my gear off at home first," he said, shouldering his bag, but Kenaii shook her head, holding out her hand. "Allow me to take it for you."

"You don't have to," said Bofur, but the stubborn dwarf woman rolled her eyes. "It's obviously important that you go, I think I can handle taking your gear home," she said, a grin in her eyes. Bofur smiled, and handed her the bag. "You're the best Kenaii," he said, but before turning to go, he leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Don't wait up for me!" he said as he turned to go.

"I won't!"

Bofur's mind reeled from both his summoning and his kiss with Kenaii. _Its not a real kiss, _said the voice inside of his head, but he found himself smiling like a fool regardless.

He slowed to a halt as he reached the doors to the chambers, he reached out his hand to knock, but before he could the door swung open, and a little, middle aged dwarf hobbled out, stress in his features. "Are you Bofur?" he asked, and when he nodded, the dwarf said, "I am Balin. We need to talk, walk with me."

"I thought we were supposed to meet in the chamber?" asked Bofur, and then thinking twice he added a "sir."

"Ah, we were." Balin said, "But the king is having a rather heated debate at the moment. I trust that you are a friend of Hana of the Goldbeard clan?" he asked, and Bofur nodded, feeling his heart rate increase a bit. "She's my sister… why do you ask?

"What I am about to tell you," started Balin, his voice low, "You must keep a secret." And when Bofur nodded he said, "Her company was ambushed, the dwarves were slaughtered."

Suddenly Bofur's mind was spinning; he felt the blood drain from his head as he slowly collapsed against a nearby wall, putting his head in his hands. He felt himself beginning to shake. "No…" he whispered."No... You lie!" his voice rose to a shout, he searched Balin's face for signs of deceit, but there were none. _What have I done? _

"But Hana is possibly living," said Balin, and Bofur's head shot up. "What?"

"A group of men have taken her and Thorin captive, they are being held for ransom in Dol Guldur," said the older dwarf, his face grave.

Bofur stood, feeling a small light of hope in him. "When will the ransom be paid then?"

"I'm not entirely sure," said Balin. "Thrain is having a difficult time convincing Thror to ransom his own grandson, let alone Hana. Our only hope is for Thorin and her to escape, for if we come to Dol Guldur and only ransom Thorin, Hana will be killed immediately. Participating in this ransom is a huge risk on its own, for it will just give criminals more incentive to do it again. Right now we need to do everything we can to help them escape."

Bofur nodded. "I will do whatever I must." He said, feeling stone cold determination set in. Balin searched his eyes for a moment, and then said, "Come with me."

**/**

**Holy frikity frak it's late. I haven't even read over this yet so forgive me for grammar or punctuation mistakes, its two a.m. where I'm at. Sorry about the constant Thorin P.O.V. and the shortness of this chapter! I'll try harder in the future, I promise!**

**-Infinityscripts**

**I claim no rights to any of Tolkien's literary works, nor to any part of Peter Jackson's film trilogies. I OWN NOTHING.**

**Original text**

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Allies

The few that were left of the company walked quickly and unceasingly. Hana felt a creeping sense of exhaustion, for many days of trekking with little food had worn her down extendedly. The bones in her elbows had grown so profound that it was hurting when her arms pressed against her sides. Every gust of wind seemed to rip her to pieces, and as the nights grew colder she attempted to control her symptoms of fatigue, for Thorin had already given her too much of his own meals, and she did not wish to be a burden.

He was growing far too thin as well, she noted as she was tending to the wound on his forehead, for his face was growing hollow, and the half-moons beneath his eyes grew in size and blackness with each day that passed, and she'd be damned if she said it did not worry her.

"How did this happen?" she asked, gently threading another stitch through his skin. The wound had bled profusely throughout the day as they put distance between themselves and the scene of disaster. They had covered ten miles by nightfall, and it was showing on the faces of each man.

"I do not remember," said Thorin, "It must have been one of the smaller stones that fell at the beginning."

Hana sighed, using a damp cloth to dab away at the blood caked to his cheek. The men had given them what supplies they had to stich up Thorin, for if a wound like his were to become infected; it could quickly prove fatal to their most prized captive. The men did not trust them enough to let them alone with the supplies though, and Rosin guard close by tending to his sprained ankle and watching them closely, although at this point Hana was not sure if he really was a foe.

Thorin hissed below her fingers, and Hana muttered a soft "sorry," and refocused on the task at hand.

"You're completely reckless you know," she said, meeting his eyes for a moment, he looked at her questioningly. "You should have listened to Rosin, you could've died. Pure thick is all you are."

"You know," said the dwarf prince in his baritone voice, "Most people would say 'thank you,' to someone who's saved their life."

She rolled her eyes. "Thank you, now don't ever do it again."

They shared a short laugh, and for a moment it almost felt as if they could be back in Erebor, sitting on a bench and discussing the weather. _What would Thorin be like back home? _She wondered, probably just his princely self, taking and giving orders and never once cracking a smile if he could help it. She decided she liked this Thorin better, the one who listened and discussed irrelevant things with her, just for boredoms sake. The one that would tell jokes and would participate with her in banter. For a moment, she wished that they did not need to even return. She definitely did not want to live in shambles, but maybe in a little house not far from the river. She would bring Bofur and his family as well as Thorin, and then he would be able to live a normal life, and then they may even be able to be friends, then he would not call her a commoner.

But she dejected those thoughts, they were unrealistic. Hana knew that it was more likely for her to die than make it back, and even if she did, she would probably never speak to Thorin again, not like this.

"We must ask for more food," he said, interrupting he thoughts. Looking down, she saw a flash of worry in his eyes, but it was gone in a moment. "I can see your shoulder bones through your shirt," he said.

"You're one to talk," she responded. "I've almost cut myself on your cheekbones." With that she gently finished off the stitches, and knelt down to meet his eyes. He stared into hers for what felt like an eternity, and for a moment she considered leaning in a little closer, but then a voice rang out in her head, it was her own. _Don't you dare!_ It said, _don't you dare get any closer to him, physically or emotionally. You know how it will turn out. Cut him off now before it's too late._

Thankfully, a distraction from his eyes came when a voice rang out from across the camp, it was Fradun.

"The events of this morning are unfortunate ones," he said, "But I intend to continue our mission regardless. I ask that two of you double back to the encampment to the east of the Greenwood. Give them news as to what has occurred and return to the Cliffside to salvage as much as possible." When no one immediately volunteered, he said, "I will give whoever goes double their original pay."

Hands shot up, and Fradun picked two men, one who was very stout and at least twice as tall as herself (and she was tall for a dwarf). The other was lankier and quiet. He had steady black eyes that always gave her shivers. She admitted to herself that she would not miss their presence.

"You will leave at sunrise," said Fradun. "After you have finished, bring whatever you can to Dol Guldur, and wait for me there." Then the man addressed the company as a whole. "The western encampment is not far, we will take a detour there to restock on fuel and men, and then we will move along to Dol Guldur. Sharikan," he said, addressing a man with a red beard at her far right, "You will take the first watch."

As their remaining captors retired to their bedrolls, Hana pondered as to whether they should stay awake for Rosin's watch so that he could answer the many questions they had stirring in their minds. But exhaustion soon got the better of her, and she felt herself nodding off against Thorin's upper arm. He was far more comfortable than the rock that surrounded them, and they could share body heat – she justified. There was nothing wrong with using the large dwarf as a pillow, as long as she did not get used to it.

Before she could gain much sleep however, Hana felt a hand shaking her awake. She opened her eyes to see the rest of the camp asleep, only Thorin and Rosin were awake, peering at her to see if she was ready to converse, and when she nodded Rosin began.

"What I am to say to you," he whispered with infinitive softness, "You must keep to yourselves, or you will never have a chance of escape. I want to get you two out of here. I am on your side."

"What happened today?" questioned Thorin "That landslide was no accident, was it?"

"No," he said in a whisper. "I had set small, quiet explosives across the hillside the previous night, and timed them to go off as we walked near." He sighed, shaking his head in frustration. "They should have taken out the entire company, carts men and all, saving only us, but I miscalculated the distance that we would be spread out, and the men towards the front survived."

"Why though?" Hana asked, "Why are you helping us?"

Rosin's hazel eyes darted left and right, and then he said: "If this ransom goes through, there will be more tension between the west and east. There are forces that I do not yet fully know, forces that are plotting wars and unspeakable chaos. Inside men who desire to overthrow their kingdoms and rule as dictators. Your ransom is a small piece in the vast puzzle of what is currently occurring in Middle Earth, and I plan to eliminate that piece. I will not allow this world to loose balance if I can help it."

"So you plan to help us escape then?" asked Hana, hope coming up inside of her, maybe she would survive after all!

Rosin nodded. "I am deciding upon a plan as we speak. I did not anticipate anyone surviving the rockslide, nor that we would head to the west encampment, or my injured ankle." He spoke that last part with a grimace. "But I will work something out soon enough; I will need your cooperation."

Both dwarves nodded, and Hana added in a "Thank you," because until that moment, she highly doubted her survival.

"Do not thank me yet," said Rosin, "Understand that I do not particularly like you- nor am I doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I am helping you because I wish to protect my home."

After a moment, Thorin asked in his deep voice, "Who exactly are you… and where is your home?"

Rosin slowly gripped the front of his hood, and pulled it back to expose a delicate, freckled face, hastily cut auburn hair, as well as- Hana let out a quietgasp- slender, pointed ears. "My name is Rosindium of the Greenwood," he said, "And my home is with my daughter, Tauriel."

/

"Why are you ignoring me?" Hana asked, glancing over at Thorin the next day as they travelled through the dense forest at the edge of the greenwood. The dark haired dwarf turned to her, "I am not ignoring you."

Hana rolled her eyes. "You've hardly said a word to me all day, how else should I take that?"

"That is because I have nothing to say." mumbled the dwarf prince.

"I know what this is," Hana said, grin in her voice, "You're afraid to talk to me because you're actually beginning to enjoy being around me."

Thorin spun around to her, a horrified expression in his eyes, but he seemed to relax a bit when Hana began to laugh.

"I'm only jesting," she said, "Try not to look so appalled. Am I that bad?"

"No," said Thorin. "I just do not ever plan to court, so I see no reason to become close to a dwarrowdam."

"Why will you never court? Do you not need an heir?" she asked, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"I do," said Thorin, "But I have no reason to develop any relationship. My father will choose for me a wife, just as Thror chose one for him, and his father for him, and so on."

"But that cannot always work," She said, looking ahead at the road, trying to keep any signs of longing from her voice. "What if you and your chosen wife are not compatible?"

"Then we will do whatever we must to look as if we are. I will most likely marry a rich, fat woman who is selfish and extravagant, just as every other queen of Erebor." The dwarf prince sighed- "All marriage is good for is alliances and heirs- anyways."

"I see…" said Hana.

"But that is only for princes such as I," said Thorin quickly, afraid that he had said something wrong, "I am sure you will marry for love."

Hana laughed an honest, dry laugh that made Thorin feel inexplicably hollow on the inside.

"That is where you are mistaken- Thorin, son of Thrain." She said, her tone growing sad. Thorin clenched his teeth a bit. "For I am not desirable, nor beautiful, nor lovable. I am a simple merchant who sells toys and lives alone. I am a half blood with no beard, nor money. You are the first dwarf prince to willingly speak with me besides Bofur, and even now it is only because we are under dire circumstances." She paused, biting her lip. "No Thorin- I fear I will die alone," both dwarves' heads snapped up when they heard shouts- they had reached the west encampment.

"And possibly very soon."

/

Rosindium nodded in thanks as he was handed a large, hearty bowl of stew as well as a few thick rolls of bread- he looked over to see that Thorin and Hana were asking for, and receiving second helpings. That was good- they needed it.

The escape plan that he had come up with in his head was almost ready to be set into motion, except for one problem- his sprained ankle. He could barely limp against a person at normal speed- let alone do what he was intending. He knew that he could easily return it, due to his bloodline gift of healing, but it would make everyone far too suspicious, and he was not sure if he was ready to risk exposure yet.

"May I have a word with you?" a voice rang out- interrupting his train of thought. He looked up to see Fradun, "Yes sir," he said immediately, "Of course sir."

"I will not ask you to stand," said Fradun, sitting in the grass beside him, "I wish to discuss something with you."

"Anything- sir." said Rosindium, trying to portray a normal atmosphere, although his mind was reeling with the possible questions that could be asked to reveal his betrayal.

"I would first like to applaud you on cutting the prisoners ropes in time to save them from the rock avalanche." He said. "It is truly unbelievable how fast you sensed the rockslide, faster than any of my other men… faster than even me."

Rosindium's heart began to race. "Ah- just luck, I suppose… sir."

"I suppose," said Fradun, green eyes narrowing. "I am sorry to say this, but I must ask you to stay at the encampment." He said, not a twinge of remorse in his voice. "Your leg needs to heal, and we intend to depart tomorrow, and with all respects, you will only be a burden."

Rosindium cursed on the inside, yet attempted to portray little emotion, for Fradun was far too clever for his own good. "Thank you, sir." He said, slowly and carefully, "I wish you well on your journey."

"Indeed." said Fradun as he stood, dusting off his trousers, "Do not bother to take a watch tonight. There are plenty of other men available, and you'll need your rest."

The elf in disguise nodded, although mentally panicking. How would he explain to Thorin and Hana what the escape plan was? How would he be able to devise anything with them?

"Oh, and do not worry, Rosin," said Fradun, looking back to the hazel eyed bowman one last time. "Thorin and his wife will never escape; I intend to watch them… like a hawk."

/

**Hello errybody! So I'm sorry this chapter is another shortie, I just felt like it would be awkward if I were to end it anywhere else. Kudos to anyone who caught the Sherlock reference in there! (I could cut myself on those cheekbones ;) ) Was Rosin big enough of a plot twist forya? I'm sorry if you're not a big fan of Tauriel, because to be honest, I'm not either. I just feel like her personality already fit Rosin's, as well as their looks, so eh, might as well. I won't be including her much in this story, but I do intend to explain a lot of reasons as to why she is the way she is. Actually the point of this story is to explain A TON of things in the Hobbit and LOTR. Like how Smaug found out about Erebor, why Denethor is so screwed up, where exactly Thrain went, etc. If you have any unanswered questions about LOTR or the Hobbit, or just want me to add something in, just let me know. I SHALL DO IT!**

**I'm going to leave for camping on Monday, so starting then I won't be doing the chapter a night thing for at least a week. But I shall be writing with pen and paper when I'm up there so do not worry! I have 700 views like WHAT THE CRAP I AM FREAKING OUT. Any suggestions for plot, or writing critique, just let me know.**

**-Infinityscripts**

**I claim no rights to any of Tolkien's literary works, nor to any part of Peter Jackson's film trilogies. I OWN NOTHING.**

**Original text**

Contribute a better translation


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Saving Grace

Balin son of Fundin sat in his study, reading and rereading the letter he had written. He had already thrown away several, because it _had_ to be perfect. They were in no alliance with Rohan, and what he was about to ask was hazardous to say the least.

Bofur had offered to do so much, even to organize a company to rescue Hana and Thorin, but Balin knew that they would never be able to cross that much land in time. Their enemy had to be intercepted before they reached Dol Guldur. If they were not, then they would have far too much defense, and the dwarves would not stand a chance. There was only one group of people who could catch up with the enemy in so little time, and that was the Rohirim.

He hastily signed the bottom of the script, and then carefully took out his copy of the king's stamp, for Thror was far too stubborn to ask for help. Balin knew that he would surely be punished when the king found out that he was using his stamp without permit, to establish an alliance that he didn't want, but Balin saw no other way, Thorin _had_ to make it.

The elder dwarf took the hawk from its stand in the corner of his study, and carefully slipped the letter into the provided tube. This bird was trained to fly specifically to the southwest. Balin had no doubt it would make it to Rohan, his only hope was that it would get there in time, and that King Fengel would accept his proposition. He opened the window, and let the hawk soar away, carrying with it all of the hope that he had left.

/

It took Thorin very little time to decide that he did not like the way the men from the west encampment stared at Hana.

They had left the settlement almost as soon as they had arrived, only taking time to eat a good meal and recruit some men. (Thorin tried to contain his happiness, for they had started to receive about two and a half meals a day) They had packed up three horses with enough food and water to get them through the next two weeks to Dol Guldur- but other than that the company continued on foot- without Rosindium Thorin noted. It looked like he and Hana were on their own after all.

Well-not as alone as he would like to be. He caught a man looking at his female companion in a way that made his arm hair prickle. The recruit's face was twisted into a sadistic smirk as his eyes traveled over the expanse of her body. Thorin bit the inside of his cheek; saying something would surely result in a beating, and yet…

"It's very beautiful you know," Hana's voice rang out, interrupting his thoughts. She was peering at the vast greenery that surrounded them. Tall oaks ruled the forest- but here and there were some little plants that sprouted from the earth, demanding to be noticed. Colorful birds of all kinds soared above, and he could hear a river running not far away.

"Yes," was all he said, it had been a long time since he had been this deep in a forest.

"If you could be anywhere right now Thorin, son of Thrain, where would you be?" The dwarf prince smiled at the formal way in which she called him. It had become more of a nickname between them than a title. He pondered for a moment, and then said,

"I do not know; let me think for a moment. What about you Hana? Where would you be?"

Hana twisted her face in that way that she did when she was thinking, and then said "Making toys to give to the little ones of Dale. I especially love giving dolls to the girls; it makes their face light up like little else."

Thorin could not help but smile again, for Hana was indeed very different from the other women he knew.

"Have you thought of something yet?" she asked, and Thorin nodded, saying "I would be walking in the civilian streets late at night, with the street lanterns glowing and the miners coming home from a hard day's work. I certainly do not want to be kidnapped, or bound." He gestured towards his own tied hands. Both Thorin and Hana's wrists had become swollen and red from the constant pulling of the ropes. The skin had been rubbed off, only leaving bloody open sores. It would indeed be very nice to take them off once more.

They fell back into their companionable silence; however, Thorin did not miss the opportunity to give the man behind them a glare, Hana was not his to look at.

/

Rosindium healed his ankle while the rest of the camp was off hunting. He sighed- rolling his foot a bit. It was stiff and still clicked in odd places, but it would have to do.

He grabbed his bow, arrows, duel swords, and enough food and water to get him through a few nights. He packed it all in his bedroll and slung it over his shoulder, and soon Rosindium was darting through the trees like a proper wood elf, for he needed to move south, and he intended to move quickly.

/

Thorin ate his stew furiously that night, partly because he was famished and part because he needed something to occupy himself with, for he was dangerously close to smashing in the heads of their captors.

There were three men now, all staring at her from across the way. One of them met Thorin's eyes, and then turned over to whisper to the large man next to him. The other shook his head, eyed Hana one last time- and then the three left to go about their business.

"Are you alright?" a voice inquired next to him, Thorin turned to realize that the voice came from none other than Hana.

"Yes," he said, "Just… if you get an uneasy feeling, about anything, tell me. Alright?"

"Alright," Hana said slowly. "What will we do now that Rosindium's gone?"

The dwarf prince rubbed his bound hands over his eyes. "We are on our own now." He said. "I assume that we will be reaching Dol Guldur sometime next week. We need to think of an escape, and quickly. "

"Is there any way we could defeat these men?" she asked, but Thorin shook his head. "I count over forty, that is far too many, and I do not have a sword. "

"Could we slip through the ropes somehow?"

"I doubt it," said Thorin, "I have been trying too since the day I was first bound. And even then, where would we go? We must have a plan for after our escape. These men will surely catch us if we continue on foot. We need to steal a horse."

"Could we even ride a horse?" she asked, and Thorin sighed, "We must try."

Hana brought her chin to her knees. "…There really is no hope for me- is there? Escape is not even possible, and Thror will not pay my ransom. I will probably die next week."

"I am trying," said Thorin desperately, did she not see that? "I made you a promise, Hana. We will get out."

"If I am to die," she started, reaching her hands around the back of her head to untie a necklace with a single pearl on a silver chain. She gazed at it for a moment, before gently taking Thorin's large hands, and placing it in his palms "Could you make sure this gets to Bofur's future wife?" Her voice was quiet, it stung him. "It is a family heirloom. I was supposed to hold on to it for his mother, but I feel as if I will not get the chance to do that much longer."

Thorin stared at the little, peach colored pearl in his hand. It would seem like a small insignificant pebble to the wide eye, but looking closer, one would realize that its rarity far surpasses that of most treasures. He made up his mind in a split second.

"No."

Hana sighed in exasperation "Please Thorin just-"

"No." he said more sternly, feeling his voice tremble a bit. "I have made you an oath, Hana. I will get us out of this. And if I am to fail and you die- then I will die with you."

"Thorin- you shouldn't say things like that." She said softly. But Thorin shook his head. "It is the truth."

He placed the jewel gently into her palm, and folded her fingers over it. "We will overcome," he said, staring into her deep blue eyes. "I promise you."

/

It was around dawn when Rosindium first spotted the company of men and two dwarves. They were just taking up camp to leave. He hid far, far away, camouflaged by the dense canopy of the trees that he had come to know. The elf shouldered his pack, getting ready to move onward with the company, but stopped when he heard a rustling in the brush behind him. Slowly, he drew and arrow and laid it on his bow. Mentally pinpointing where the sound had come from, he spun around and let loose an arrow in that direction, it thudded into the base of a nearby tree. Rosindium sighed; it must have been a bird.

"You're getting slow you know," came a voice that caused him to jump out of his skin. He turned to see a lanky, ebony haired elf with sun kissed skin and a leathery tunic. It was a friend of his, from a desert far to the south. He smiled.

"Immelethrin!" he exclaimed, bringing him into an embrace. "It has been far too many years. What brings you to the Greenwood?"

"I came to check on my sister and her new child," he said, smiling widely. "Tauriel is very beautiful."

"I know," said Rosindium, "Her eyes shine like starlight."

"I am glad to know the birth went well," said the brunette elf. "My sister told me that you were headed south, tracking a band of men. Why?"

"Evil is growing," said Rosindium, "These men have captured Prince Thorin of Erebor," he gestured to the company not far away. "They plan to ransom him in Dol Guldur… which means…"

"The men in the west are conspiring for war," said Immelethrin, speaking the words as if they left a vile taste in his mouth. "The Black Council."

"Yes," said the paler elf. "And I fear that they wish to involve the elves of the Greenwood- since armies would march through our forest if Erebor goes to battle with the west."

"Would Thranduil even go to war?" asked the desert elf, "He seems disinterested in the affairs of others."

"I do not know," said Rosindium, "Let us just do what we can to prevent it."

"You plan to help the dwarf prince escape?" asked the darker elf, and when Rosindium nodded he said, "I am with you then."

"You have my thanks," said the Greenwood elf, but Immelethrin did not seem to be paying attention, his eyes were fixed on the departing company.

"Who is that small woman?" he asked, "And why is she a captive?"

Rosindium sighed, thinking of the best way to explain all of the events that had led Hana to where she was now, "Do you remember the silver trade incident between Gondor and Erebor all of those years ago?" he asked, and when Immelethrin nodded, he continued "She is the product of that incident."

The desert elf's eyes widened. "Then she is of mixed blood."

"Yes." said Rosindium. "Thorin managed to convince them that she is his wife, they are holding her for ransom as well."

"Let us hope that she is no burden to our mission then," said Immelethrin, but Rosindium shook his head. "Something tells me she will not be."

"What is your plan then?" he asked, "Is it solid enough to pursue?"

"Yes," said Rosindium, "And it involves a river."

/

"A letter sir," a page said, bowing before King Fengel who sat on his thrown in the great hall of Rohan. "It came by way of hawk, from Erebor."

The king nodded in thanks, and opened the letter in curiosity; they had not received word from the east in many years. When he began to read the script however, he realized that it was not good news.

"Sir?" his councilman asked, "What does it say?"

The young king took a breath, and began:

"King Fengel,

I ask you to take notice of this letter immediately, for our circumstances are dire, and we need your assistance.

Prince Thorin of Erebor has been captured and is being led to the fortress of Dol Guldur to be held for a ransom. As I am sure you are aware, if he were to be ransomed out, the act would only drive criminals to do it again, and not just to us.

What I ask of you is this: send what Rohirim you can spare to intercept the company of men in the northeast, and take Prince Thorin into your custody. I will send men to escort him back to Erebor. In return, King Thror has agreed to lower your bargain of the trade to one third of what you originally promised to pay.

Understand that if you assist us, we will be in your debt.

Balin, son of Fundin."

Fengel's eyes travelled across the paper. "It has the king's mark," he said. "I feel as if I must help."

"But sir, is it wise to make this sort of alliance?" asked his advisor.

"I do not recall being in an alliance with anyone who is an enemy of Erebor," said Fengel. "If this ransom goes through we may very soon be paying out our own."

His advisor nodded. "It is your decision, sir."

The king pondered for a moment, biting his fist. He found that he would much rather have Erebor be in Rohan's debt than have the dwarf kingdom hold a grudge against them for not assisting. The dwarves were a stubborn race, and would not have asked for help unless the situation was truly dire. He nodded, coming to a decision. "Find me the captain of the Rohirim."

/

The wind blew ferociously that day. With every gust it seemed to take Thorin apart, bit by bit, until all that remained was a bundle of nerves. The escape plans that he ran through his head had grown in number, as well as flaws. He racked his brain, trying not to dwell on the seriousness of Hana's words. For some reason, when she talked about dying, he felt a small part of him cry out in agony, for he would never forgive himself if something were to happen to her that he could prevent.

Thorin looked over at the golden haired dwarf. When she had grown such a spot in his heart, he did not know. All he knew was that he needed to protect her, whether they would court or not was no matter.

They would be reaching Dol Guldur in the next week, but he did not plan to let that happen.

/

"Any news of Hana and the company?" Breva asked, giving her first born a smile as he entered the front room of his home after a day in the mines. Bofur clenched his fist, barely managing a grin.

"No mother," he said, "Although I am sure that she is fine."

"Yes," said Breva, cradling a sleeping Bumble in her arms. She turned to cough into her blood stained sleeve, and Bofur winced. It was any day now that she would pass. "Hana is a tough one," she said, "She'll manage through anything."

Bofur nodded, although his heart felt heavy. Taking his mother's hand, he offered a silent prayer to Mahal that his sister would indeed be alright.

/

Hana scooted a little closer to Thorin. Those men were staring at her again, she had felt their eyes for many days, but did not tell Thorin, for what could he do? They were prisoners.

"Are you cold?" asked the dwarf prince beside her, looking down at her questioningly.

"No," said Hana, still feeling an uneasy creeping sense.

"Then why have you moved so close to me?" asked Thorin, Hana opened her mouth to speak, but a voice interrupted hers.

"I have a question, Edorin," said one of the three men who had been watching her.

"What is it, Gelrik?" the man asked back, a snarky tone in his voice that sent shivers down her spine.

"Don't you think this dwarf maiden here is rather pretty?" they were advancing. She gripped Thorin's hand.

"I think so- for a dwarf at least."

"Yes," said Gelrik. "I think we could have a rather entertaining time," with that he grabbed her chin and wrenched her upwards. "What do you say, miss?" Hana could feel Thorin tense beside her. She gathered the saliva in her mouth and spit directly onto Gelrik's cheek. The man grabbed her arm and wrenched her from Thorin's grasp and to her feet. "Wrong answer."

In an instant camp seemed to dissolve into chaos. Hana kicked and screamed as the other two men lay their hands on her and began to drag her away. She heard Thorin yelling, or maybe it was just herself. Panic arose and ate at her insides. She did the only thing she could, and called to the only person she trusted.

"Thorin!" she screamed, and then leaned into one of her assailants and sunk her teeth into his arm. She was rewarded with a slap to the face. She called for Thorin again. A hand ran down her throat, and she shut her eyes, trying to convince herself that this was all just a bad dream.

And suddenly one pair of hands was torn off of her, and then another. She turned in time to see Thorin rip the last man away and throw him on the ground. She realized in shock that he had somehow gotten out of his bonds. The dwarf prince proceeded to grip Gelrik by the collar of his shirt, and lay his fist into the man's face furiously. He hit him over and over again, until at one point she thought that he may break the man's neck, but suddenly a sword hilt came crashing down against the back of Thorin's head, and the dwarf prince fell to the ground unconscious.

"What is going on here?" bellowed Fradun as he approached the scene. All eyes fell to Gelrik, the man stumbled to his feet, spitting out a tooth. His face was black and green, and his eyes were swollen. "I was just trying to have some fun with this dwarf maiden," he said, his words slurred.

In rage, Fradun's fist flew into the side of Gelrik's face, sending the poor sod to the ground a second time. "Do you not realize what would've become of you actions?" He asked, his eyes darkened with rage. "If you had tainted her the marriage would be worthless, and then she would not be ransomed.

Gelrik bowed his head and muttered an apology, but Fradun would not have it. "You three are no longer welcome in my company," he said in a foul tone. "Leave my presence before I draw my sword."

Swiftly, the men gathered their belongings and departed, not once glancing back in fear that they would face the rage of Fradun.

"If such a thing like this occurs again, understand that you will not be provided the mercy that I have given those fools." Said Fradun, and then he turned to where Hana stood, "Escort the prisoners back to their designated area and bind the prince's hands with two more layers of rope. I retire to my bed."

As Fradun returned to his tent, someone gripped Hana's arm and led her to the rock she had been sitting against earlier. Two other men dragged Thorin to her, "Lay him against me," she requested, and the men unceremoniously dropped the prince into her lap. She gently positioned herself so that his head lay on her thighs, careful to not injure him any further.

The initial shock had begun to wear off as her breathing returned to normal and her heart rate came down to a steady speed. But she could not help the shaking of her hands. _He's gone now,_ She told herself, _This will never occur again._

Hana brought her hand down to meet the back of Thorin's head. No bleeding, she realized in relief, although he would probably be concussed for a while. She looked down at his freshly bound hands and cringed. The skin around his wrists was torn and bleeding heavily from where he had ripped his bonds. With no medical resources, she found herself latching her teeth onto her coat collar and pulling off a thick strip of fabric. She forced her shaking hands to function as she gently pulled his ropes up his forearms, and wrapped his wound. She did the same with the other, tying a harsh knot with her own bound hands. At least then the ropes would not rub against the wounds.

She brought her hands up to push the hair away from his dirtied and bruised face. Hana sighed, for she knew how dangerous it was to become close to the dwarf prince, for he would never be able to pursue her, even if he wanted to. She had always known that this would result in a broken heart, and yet, after all he was, all he had done, and all they had been through, she did not care.

Whether he would love her or not, he was her savior, and she was in his debt. And in spite of everything, she felt herself falling.

/

When Thorin awoke he was gazing at the stars. But the beautiful sight was soon overcome by a sense of panic as memories began to flood back to his mind- Hana being taken, a white hot rage, and then blackness. What had happened to her? In anxiety, he sat up, only to have a searing ache wash over him. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, pulling him down, and he complied. Hana's face filled his vision, and he sighed in relief. "You are alright?" he asked, "They did not touch you?"

"Not after what you did," said Hana, a hand was threading through his hair. Was that her hand? Would he honestly mind if it was?

"Fradun has banished those men," she said softly. "We will face no trouble from them again."

Thorin nodded, that was good, although he would have liked some more time to bash their heads in.

"How do you feel?" asked Hana, the back of her hand brushing against the side of his face. He melted a bit at her warmth.

"Like I have been kicked by a horse," he answered, "But I will be alright. How do you feel?"

Hana bit her lip and turned away. He felt himself panic._ Please do not cry… I could not bear it if you did. _But she looked back down at him, and after rubbing her face with shaky hands said, "I think I will be alright as well."

Thorin frowned, feeling anger prickle at his insides. "I am so sorry," he whispered, "I should have come sooner, I should have never let him take you."

But Hana smiled- shaking her head. "I don't know how you did it; you were amazing, breaking your bonds and facing those three men."

The dwarf prince felt a small flush of pride go through him, but he bit it off, for truly he had failed her. He did not protect her as he should have. "None of this should have happened in the first place."

"But it did," said Hana, "And nothing we do will change that. For now, we should rest. Your head is going to ache terribly tomorrow."

"Only if you are alright." He said.

Hana nodded and whispered. "I think I am."

He soon felt himself drift off to sleep. The last thing he saw was her face, and he had no qualms with that.

/

**Soooooo I won't be able to type anything up for the next week and a half, so I'm sorry for the wait for the next chapter, I hope the length of this one made up for it!**

**So this chapter had a LOT of foreshadowing and symbolism, so I would read through once or twice, cause once you get it you might realize what I have in store for these characters…**

**I know that Thengel was not the king of Rohan at the time, but just bear with me. As of now I am setting the end of this story for after Smaug attacks and the dwarves are driven out. Since its about a hundred years between that and the events of the hobbit, I will probably just write drabbles of what life is like, maybe an entire story for the battle of Azanulbizar.**

**If you want something added in, let me know! I would love to take requests. And anybody who's read this far is my hero, because I find my writing to be quite boring.**

**-Infinityscripts**

**I claim no rights to any of Tolkien's literary works, nor to any part of Peter Jackson's film trilogies. I OWN NOTHING.**

**Original text**

Contribute a better translation


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: It begins

"Raolace, sir." A man said, approaching the Captain of the Rohirim. They had ridden hard and fast for many days, and had finally made it to the edge of the Greenwood. It would not be long now until they found the dwarf prince. The captain turned to his second in command, rubbing his eyes in weariness. "What is it?" he asked.

"Do you think King Thranduil will permit us through his woods?" he asked, trying to keep the doubt from his voice, but Raolace saw through his façade. The captain sighed- this entire mission was unusual; saving a prince from a dwarf kingdom they were not allies with. But orders were orders, and he would follow.

"Our people have no qualms with the elves." He said, "We are allies of the Greenwood, if we become questioned, we will simply express the truth of our mission. They should allow us passage."

"And if they do not?"

Raolace's eyes fell as he brought his sharpening stone to his spear. It was a heavy weight to bear, knowing that you could start a war at any moment. "We will follow King Fengel's orders," he said softly. "To whatever end."

/

The company traveled swiftly, they would be reaching Dol Guldur very soon. Thorin bit the inside of his cheek, praying to Mahal for guidance. His mind was foggy from what he suspected to be a minor concussion. He began to taste blood as he bit the inside of his cheek harder. If he ever saw those men again, he would break their spines.

Hana had developed bruises on her neck and arms, and Thorin closed his eyes in shame.

He looked down at his wrists, she must have wrapped them, he thought, although it did not matter, for he had bled through the cloth already. He did not remember breaking his bonds. He remembered a panic, a plague in his mind that he needed to protect her, and then white hot rage like he had never felt before as the other men began to drag her away. He remembered feeling his skin rip, and then lunging at her attackers. Would he be able to tear his bonds once more? _It doesn't matter_, he thought; Hana would not be able to break her bonds, and he would not leave her behind.

The blonde dwarf must have sensed his gaze. Her eyes met his and she offered him a soft smile. He returned it, mentally cringing. It was becoming much too easy to smile back.

That night- Thorin sat much closer to her than he usually did, being sure to glare at anyone who made eye contact with them. He felt Hana shaking beside him. "What is it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping away the tears in her eyes. "I just do not feel well."

Thorin squeezed her arm. "Of course you do not," he said, and in spite of the logical voices in his mind, he found himself resting his chin against her head. "I am here, you know."

"I know," said Hana, voice breaking.

/

It was near dawn when Rosindium sat up from his perch in a tree. His ears twitched- someone was coming.

"Immelethrin," he whispered, but the dark elf was not listening, only gazing off to the south. He had long been aware of Thranduil guard watching his every move, but this was not the footsteps of elves.

"What do you see?" asked Rosindium coming to sit beside him. Immelethrin's ebony eyes narrowed, and then widened. "Riders."

"Riders?" asked Rosindium incredulously.

Immelethrin nodded, "There are at least thirty five."

Peering over his friend's shoulder, his eyes widened as he spotted the black mass in the distance, riders heading at full speed, not half a mile away. Seeing a distinct flag with a galloping horse, he said, "They are the Rohirim."

"What would they be doing this far into the Greenwood?" asked Immelethrin, turning to his friend.

"I am unsure," said Rosindium, dropping lightly to the forest floor. "Let us find out."

/

Hana did not sleep much that night, for her thought always seemed to turn to Gelrik. Her mind was full of his wicked smirk and laughter. But she began to find comfort in the warmth of Thorin, son of Thrain, who snored softly beside her. She looked up at him, his long dark hair and chiseled features really did disguise a kind soul, she thought with a smile, but it dropped from her face. There were only three ends to their story, either she would die and he would live on, they would die together, or they would both return safely and never speak again. As much as she attempted to accept reality, she could not help but picture a fourth ending, where Thorin would continue to offer her smiles and talk about mindless things, even when he returned to his princely duties. An outcome where he would be there to protect her from all things, and where she would be there to bring him back from his nightmares that he had so often.

She brought her fingers to brush some fallen hair from his face. The dwarf prince's eyes opened, and met hers. The two said nothing; he raised an eyebrow, and then let his eyes close again, falling back into his snoring sleep. Hana smiled in spite of herself, she could get very used to this.

/

Raolace almost jumped out of his skin when two unfamiliar figures appeared not fifty feet in front of him. "Halt," he commanded to his men, and the horsemen pulled to a stop.

"Who goes there? Friend or Foe?" he asked as the figures came into earshot. Both stood a little over six feet tall, with pointed ears and bright eyes, _Elves, _he thought.

"Friend," said the one on the left, he had a bow strapped to his back and a short sword on each hip. He had remarkably short hair for an elf, and a slight limp- Raolace noted the last one after he watched him walk for a few moments. The elf on the left was an interesting sight, for he had skin the color of chestnuts, with hair and eyes that were blacker than a night without moon or star. He bore a long, slim sword as well as a crossbow. As dangerous as they appeared at a glance however, their eyes did not betray any hint of urgency or malice. Raolace leaned over to his second in command.

"Do not attack unless attacked, remember- they are our allies."

The captain dismounted his horse and approached. His hand had an itch to reach for his weapon, but he stilled it.

"Who are you? And what is your business in the Greenwood?" the paler elf asked as they came to a halt not five feet away from one another. Neither of the fair folk had a weapon in their hands- yet.

"My name is Raolace, son of Raomel. I am the captain of the Rohirim, the Riders of Rohan." he gestured to the group of men behind him. "We have come by order of King Fengel. May I enquire your names?"

"I am Rosindium, son of Rosindiel." said the auburn haired one. "I am an elf of the Greenwood. This is my kin, Immelethrin. He hails from the Great Desert of the South." Rosindium's eyes narrowed. "What has King Fengel ordered of you?"

"A group of men have captured Thorin, the prince of Erebor. An official has requested Rohan's assistance in returning him." Raolace held out his hands in a harmless gesture of inferiority. He did not want to cause issue. "We mean no harm to you or your wood. We plan to take Prince Thorin and leave immediately."

The elf's eyebrows shot up, and a small smile broke across his slender face. "I feel as if I could be of assistance to your quest."

/

King Thranduil sat on his precisely carved throne, watching as the captain of the guard approached. He felt his insides squirm a bit, for news from the captain hardly bode well, and he was having such a good day.

"Sir," he said, bowing to his king, but Thranduil gestured for him to rise. "What is it?"

"The dwarf prince who was being ransomed sir," he said slowly, "The one of Erebor."

"Yes?" asked Thranduil carefully. He was indeed aware of Prince Thorin's capture, for nothing happened in the Greenwood without his knowledge- he was even aware of the petty romance that was forming between the prince and the she-dwarf.

"Riders of Rohan have come to liberate them." Said the captain, and Thranduil nodded.

"Good," said the elf king, "I have been waiting for that filthy company to leave my wood for some time."

The captain was quiet for a moment, and Thranduil sat up in his chair, feeling a nagging sense of worry fill him. "What is it?"

"Rosindium, sir," said the captain. "Your councilman, he plans to assist them. They are to attack the captors tomorrow afternoon, slay them all, and retrieve the prince."

"I have given him no such orders." said Thranduil sternly as he rose from his throne. "Is he aware that if he does this he is going against me and the entire Greenwood as it is?"

The captain shrugged. "He has spoken with the Rohirim. They plan to go through with it."

Thranduil sat down again, resting his forehead between his index finger and thumb in annoyance. "Bring him to me."

/

It was midday when the company of men and two dwarves stopped at the banks of a wide, swift river. A frail wooden bridge fell across the way, barely large enough for three men side by side. "I will be the first to cross," said Fradun. "Follow me and watch where you step."

The men did not seem too hesitant, but Hana and Thorin were, for dwarves were not accustomed to rivers not made of molten rock.

"I cannot swim." Hana said, peering over the edge warily. "Can you?"

"Hardly," said Thorin as he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the middle of the bridge. "Do not fall in, our hands are bound to the horse and we would probably break our arms if we did."

Hana nodded, edging a little closer to him. Thorin smiled a bit, but ceased before she could turn to notice.

They trudged on in an eerie silence, and Thorin could not help the feeling that something huge was about to occur. What did Rosindium mean when he said that certain forces were plotting war? What forces? Middle Earth had been at peace for so long that it would be difficult to find people plotting chaos anywhere. Was it possible that his capture was more than just a simple ransom? Who was plotting for such a large war that it encompassed both the east and west?

"Thorin," Hana whispered from beside him, he turned to her.

"There is someone across the bridge." She said, "I just saw them move through the trees."

Thorin peered ahead, eyeing the vast foliage, but saw nothing. He was close to telling her that she had been imagining things, but then he remembered that Hana was half human, and of course she would have better vision than most dwarves, who mainly relied on hearing due to their time spent in the darkness. So he decided to do something he had not willingly done in a long time. He decided to trust.

"Who do you think it could be?" he asked, keeping his voice low. Hana shrugged, "I do not know, but they do not move like any man I have seen. They almost melt into the branches, as if they are invisible."

Their conversation was interrupted by a shrill shout up ahead. Peering around the horse and various men, they saw a familiar, auburn haired elf pulling his sword out of the green eyed Fradun's chest. Thorin's head reeled and his heart beat increased as Rosindium turned to the next man and impaled him with ease. The elf slowly made his way towards them, cutting down each man in his path.

The dwarf prince turned to another shout. An elf; this one much darker in appearance, was wielding a long slim sword, and killing each man that came across his path with practiced ease. Thorin came to a realization- their time to escape was now.

The two elves advanced near the center of the bridge steadily, but they were desperately outnumbered. Thinking quickly, Thorin grabbed the nearest man who was turned away, and twisted his head until he heard a satisfying _crack. _When the man crumbled to the ground, the dwarf prince took his sword and awkwardly sawed through his bonds. He then turned to Hana, the small, blonde; dwarf-woman had fear in her eyes. He met them reassuringly, and then brought the sword down between her wrists, effectively slashing through the material that had bound her.

"What now?" she asked amid the chaos that overcame the bridge. She yelped as a man's arms came around her and held her into place. Thorin was about to attack, but Hana brought her elbow down hard into the man's ribs. He let go, gasping for air. She turned swiftly and flung her closed fist into his nose. The man fell to his knees, spewing blood. Thorin slashed through his throat to finish him off.

But that was not the last, for men on either side were approaching them in a haste to seize the escaping captives. Thorin's eyes traveled around, looking for a means of escape; they fell on the river.

"We must swim." He said.

"I cannot-" Hana started, but Thorin took her hand and looked her dead in the eye. "I _can_. If all else fails, float on your back."

She nodded hesitantly, taking a breath. He squeezed her hand one last time, and they jumped.

Water overcame his atmosphere, and Thorin kicked to get to the surface. When he did, Hana bobbed up beside him. Gasping, she reached for the dwarf prince and he took her near to him. Thorin looked up at the bridge that they were being swept away from the see Rosindium and the other elf cutting down the last of the men. He felt his heart quicken however when he heard a splash and saw Fradun rise up from the water. The villain's eyes fell on them, and with a smirk he began to advance. Had he not just been stabbed? How on earth was he swimming towards them so fast?

Thorin strained his muscles to paddle down the already rapid river, and Hana did what she could to remain afloat beside him. Looking up at the bank he saw what looked like two horsemen. The armor with a galloping steed etched in soon brought him to the realization- these were the Rohirim.

The men sped up ahead of them a good twenty yards, and then one dismounted his horse and rushed to the river. As the two dwarves neared, he held out a hand. It took Thorin a split second to decide to trust the man, and he reached out and grasped his forearm, Hana still holding on to him.

The Rohirim began to heave the dwarf prince from the churning waters and into the shallow bank, but suddenly Fradun closed in and grabbed Hana's leg, and ripping her from the Thorin's grasp.

"Thorin!" she yelled in panic, but the man soon yanked her away and immediately began to pull her under the water. She kicked and struggled and called out to him again, only to be dragged back under. Thorin shouted a curse, Fradun planned to drown her.

The dwarf prince immediately began to wade back into the river, but a pair of hands, the Rohirim's hands held him in place. "What are you doing?" Thorin yelled at him, "She is in danger!"

"My orders were to protect_ you_," said the man as he pulled the struggling dwarf back harshly. "Now stay back."

Thorin struggled in the man's grasp, attempting to attack and run at the same time. Another pair of hands grabbed him, and then another and despite all of his strength, they would not allow him to move.

"Let me go!" he yelled as he watched Fradun and the struggling Hana go further and further downstream, all the while the Rohirim holding him in place. He felt as if his heart was on fire. He _had_ to save her.

"Please," he begged shakily as he fell to his knees. "I need to save her." A voice was screaming inside of his head. It was his voice. He bit back tears as the men pulled him away. He watched the two disappear behind the river bend, taking away whatever hope he had left.

/

**Okay? Okay.**

**In the words of John Hamish Watson: "NO ITS NOT! ITS NOT OKAY!"**

**I apologize for leaving you guys like this. Trust me, I have soooo much more to add in, I don't plan to make the ending this soon or this depressing. I also apologize for not updating. I have not had access to a computer since last Sunday! I shall do what I can to catch up!**

**So has anybody seen the trailer for The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies yet? It looks extremely amazingly epic… I think I peed a bit when I first watched it. Thorin's voice when he says: "I will have **_**war."**_** Really gets me. I have watched it about ten times and will probably watch it again. A lot of people are hating on Jackson's creations; and while I can understand why, I honestly feel like he's creating an masterpiece. He has all of the main plot of the book, and then adds in a bit of fanfiction so that you get more emotionally attached to the characters and storyline. EVERYBODY in that movie has their own problem. Gandalf has the pressure of leading a large group of people in an extremely important mission, Bilbo is completely out if his comfort zone, Tauriel is stuck between doing what is expected and what is right, Thorin his having issues with stubbornness and greed, Thranduil is forced to make decisions that he's not ready to, and I'm just sitting here having emotions because I can relate to all of their problems, okay rant over. If you haven't seen the trailer go watch it now! Please review! You guys are amazing for reading this far!**

**-Infinityscripts.**

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	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Nightmares

Rosindium had seen many things in his long life, but never had he seen anything like this.

The elf approached a scene that was horrific in its own unique sense, for there on the banks of the river lay two very different people in a very similar situation.

Fradun, the first of the many men that had tasted his sword that day, lay against the darkened rocks- with blood stained water lapping at his heels, and a gaping wound in his chest.

On Fradun's left was Hana. The blonde dwarf he had hoped to rescue lay face down in the water. Immediately he rushed to her and turned her on her back. Her lips were blue, and her skin as pale as a sheet of ice. He felt for a pulse, and then his eyes closed in sorrow. She had been dead for hours.

Rosindium ghosted his hand over her face, saying a silent prayer of passing, but a harsh, cruel laughter interrupted his actions. He looked up to see Fradun, not quite dead but almost there, chuckling to himself through bloody teeth.

"Why do you laugh?" Rosindium asked as he began to feel anger growing in his insides. "Why have you done this?" He bellowed, "You've spent a month protecting her so that she could be ransomed. Why kill her now?"

"Because," Fradun wheezed, a sadistic smirk on his face, "If I am to die, I refuse to go alone."

"You have no knowledge of the hurt you have caused…. Of the chaos-"

"Chaos?" Fradun asked in a sing song voice, "Chaos will overcome everything you know. My lord will rule, and destruction will come upon all that you hold dear in this world." The man spit up blood for a moment and the shakily continued, "Death will come upon your home, your friends, your wife, and I will ensure that it comes upon your daughter."

Rosindium's vision blurred in rage. He felt himself grasping his sword, but before he could unsheathe it, a larger, thinner blade came done on Fradun's throat. He looked up to see Immelethrin. The dark elf's eyes were worried. "Are you alright?"

"No," he said slowly, looking down at Hana's empty face. She had a life, friends, and potential- and Fradun took all of it away just for the sake of doing it. What would Thorin say when he found out? It was obvious that he loved Hana deeply, even if the dwarf prince would never admit it; Rosindium bit his lip; trying to imagine what it would be like to lose someone as important as his wife. Thorin would never forgive him.

"Excuse me-"a deep, aged voice rang out, and the two elves turned their heads to see a tall elderly man with a long beard and flowing gray cloak. The man's eyes traveled over the disaster that occurred, and then landed on the lifeless Hana. He stared at her for a moment, and then slowly said, "I believe I can be of assistance to you."

"What do you mean?" asked Rosindium, not altogether trusting of a stranger in the woods. The old man sighed in exasperation.

"I _mean _that I could heal her."

"She is dead," said Immelethrin, coming to stand beside Rosindium, his eyes were wary.

The old man nodded. "I can change that."

Rosindium's interest peaked, but his suspicion would not leave. "What do you mean? How do we know we can trust you?"

"I have told you what I _mean_ many times already. I will bring her back to life." He said a little grouchily. "You do not know that you can trust me, but look at it this way. She is already dead, what's the worst I could do?"

It was an instinct, a frail and sudden motion that he was not altogether aware of. Rosindium picked Hana up from the water and carried her over to him; despite all of Immelethrin's protests. The old man kneeled on the ground beside Hana's body. He muttered an incoherent sentence, and then brought his hand to rest against her abdomen.

"Feel for a heartbeat," he commanded. Rosindium obeyed, bringing two fingers to rest underneath her neck. When the familiar _thump thump_ echoed into his skin, he gaped up at the man in surprise. "Who are you?" he asked.

The old man smiled, removing his hand from Hana's abdomen. "I am wizard, known by many names." He said, "But you may call me Gandalf."

/

Thorin tried to listen to what the Rohirim were telling him- he really did. But he was uninterested as to why they helped him escape, or where they would go next. He was not interested in food, or rest. He was not interested in anything, and so the day dragged on in agony.

He looked up at the sky that night, but found himself turning away- for its midnight blue hue reminded him of her eyes, and he did not want to remember her.

A shuffling in the grass beside him drew his attention. It was the captain of the Rohirim. "Shall we stop in Rohan to complete the trade, and then send you home to Erebor?" he asked, and Thorin nodded, giving an empty grunt in reply. Raolace pursed his lips in thought for a moment, and then finally he said, "I am sorry for the fate of your friend."

Thorin said nothing, but bit his tongue in an attempt to fend off the sting of his words. The fact that Hana was dead was far too surreal for him to comprehend.

"Had I known better I would have jumped in after her myself." Raolace said slowly.

"But you didn't, did you?" spat Thorin, making no attempt to hide the vileness he felt. "You can apologize as much as you want- but she is gone, and that will not change. "

Raolace said nothing, his eyebrows knitted, he moved to his feet and with a nod, left Thorin alone again, in the dark.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Thorin felt the tidal wave of emotion that he had been holding back all day crash over him. He buried his face into his hands. He was free now- yes. But never would he be free of this- of the grief and guilt that was eating at his heart. For it was too late to tell her how much she meant to him and too late to change what had happened. Thorin was alone again, and loneliness tasted bitter indeed.

/

Hana did not remember much.

She remembered being torn from Thorin, and a long stretch of time in which she was submerged under water. Occasionally she could break the surface and gasp for air- but only to be shoved back under soon after. She had slowly felt her lungs fill with water, and her heartbeat slow. She remembered panic melting into acceptance, and her last thought was of Breva.

She did not remember a heaven or a hell, only an endless blackness that was soon overcome by a grey, wrinkly face.

The first thing Hana did was throw up. Water and bile alike left her insides as she heaved everything onto the grass that surrounded her. When she was able to focus, she saw Rosindium kneeling next to her, his burgundy eyes laden with relief. At her right lay the lifeless, blood stained corpse that was once Fradun. Next to him stood the darker elf that had attacked her ransomers on the bridge not too long before. Finally her eyes fell on a grey clad man standing directly in front of her, who's smiling elderly face was the same one that she had woken up to.

"What happened?" were the only words she could formulate.

"Fradun drowned you," Said Rosindium. "You were dead."

Hana attempted to let that sink in…. "I _was_ dead?"

"You were brought back to this life-"started the old man in a smooth voice, "Because you have yet to complete your purpose."

"What must we do to repay you?" asked Rosindium, but the old man shook his head, his eyes still resting in Hana's, she could not help but shudder a bit. They seemed to bare directly into her soul.

"I have postponed your death," he said sternly. "But I have not made you the master of it. I only ask that you use what time you have been given wisely. The role you will play in the fate of Middle Earth is much larger than you may think." The man nodded to Rosindium, and then Immelethrin. "I am afraid I must be going," he said, and when Rosindium opened his mouth in protest, he continued, "I would be glad to see you again when the time is right."

Hana blinked, and he was gone.

/

Thorin and the Rohirim traveled quickly in the days that followed his escape. He rode on a black steed with a tall, barefaced man, and to say that his rump was uncomfortable would be an understatement indeed.

The food was harsh and dry, but it was still more than he had been receiving as a prisoner. It felt good to not have ropes constantly clinging to his hands, and it felt good to know that he was eventually going home.

Or at least- that was what he told himself.

The men talked and laughed around a campfire on the third night, they even attempted to involve the dwarf prince in conversation, and he would try to comply, but most of his responses were monosyllabic grunts.

He had not slept more than a few restless hours since Hana had died; for Thorin found that his nightmares were becoming more frequent as well as intense. Hana's scream of terror when Fradun grabbed her echoed in his mind constantly. He had dreamt more than once that he stood by her grave. He would then awake in a cold sweat, and immediately search for her sleeping form he had come so accustomed to seeing beside him. But his eyes would fall on empty grass, and then his world would crash all over again.

In those moments he would try to reason with himself. _You did not actually love for her_; said his Balin voice, and_ even if you did, it would have gone nowhere. She is dead, and that will not change. Accept it and do not dwell on it._

But all of the logic in the world could not stop the curse that left his mouth as he tried and failed to hold back his tears of rage and sorrow. For she had trusted him; and he had failed her ultimately.

/

"So what exactly did happen?" Hana asked from behind Rosindium as he ducked under a tree branch and delved deeper into the forest. Immelethrin followed behind her.

"After you left the west encampment," he started "I healed my leg and snuck away from the others to follow Fradun's company." He pointed half-hazardously at the elf behind her. "That was when I found Immelethrin. We came up with a plan to rescue you, we were to attack the bridge from both ends and hopefully wipe out the company. We were wary of going through with it," he admitted, "There were several risks, but you were so close to Dol Guldur, we had no choice but try."

"That was when we met the Riders of Rohan," said Immelethrin from behind them, "They had been requested to rescue Thorin by a high ranking official of Erebor. We decided to work together, and the Rohirim offered excellent back up for what we had planned."

"We anticipated you jumping off of the bridge," said Rosindium, "So we sent riders to wait for your coming. What we did not anticipate however, was Fradun remaining alive."

Rosindium took a breath that could have passed for a growl, and then continued.

"After we wiped out the company a Rohirim approached me. He had told me that Thorin had been retrieved safely, but that a little blonde woman had been dragged downstream. I was worried, and immediately went to find you, and after a few hours of following the river I found Fradun bleeding out in the shallows, and you face down in the water, as cold as death. A strange man appeared and offered us help…. You know the rest."

The girl behind him was quiet for a moment, and then asked, "So Thorin is alright then?"

Rosindium could not help but feel a little exasperated, she had just been killed and brought back to life within a twenty four hour period, and she was asking if _Thorin_ was alright?

"Yes," he said, "He is about a day ahead of us. The Rohirim will escort him to Edoras, and then they will go from there."

"We will be taking you to Edoras as well," explained Immelethrin.

"Will you stay with us in Rohan then?" she asked, and Rosindium felt his mouth open to formulate a reply, but a strong voice rang out in the distance, "Not before he faces his charges."

A slender figure dropped down in front of him, a tall, brunette wood elf with foggy brown eyes. Two more dropped behind him.

"Rosindium son of Rosindiel, you are being arrested for treason against King Thranduil, and the Greenwood."

"Treason?" Hana asked loudly behind him. "Rosindium is loyal to the Greenwood! What do you mean treason?"

"He disobeyed the kings orders to not get involved in the affairs of Fradun's company," said the elf sternly, "Not that I would expect you to understand, dwarf.

"Hana," said Rosindium as he turned to his companions, the blonde dwarf's ears were red with rage, and Immelethrin had his sword drawn. The wood elf motioned for his friend to sheath it. Rosindium took a deep breath, for he knew that ever since he stepped out of his home this day would come. And he was prepared to face the consequences, he knew that he had done the right thing.

"Will you be arresting my companions as well?"

The brunette elf shook his head. "They will not be taken as they have not yet given us reason of suspicion." He brown eyes narrowed, "But for their sakes I suggest that they leave the Greenwood as soon as possible."

Rosindium turned to his friend, Immelethrin's eyes were darkened with rage, but he had not yet snapped. "Take Hana to Edoras," he said, "I will give you word when I am released."

"What about you?" Hana asked, stepping towards him. "You've helped us so much, how can I let them take you now?"

Rosindium gave her a sheepish smile as he felt the wood elves approach behind him. "I will be alright. I will give you word upon my release as well."

They bound his arms, and began to lead him away, Rosindium heard Hana say a small thank you from behind him, and he heard Immelethrin yell a "Be safe!"

"Give my regards to Thorin!" he shouted back, and then turned to face the road ahead of him. He said a small prayer for his friends, as well as himself, for he would need all of the help he could get.

/

**I AM GANDALF AND GANDALF MEANS….ME….**

**Hello yalls! I'm pretty happy with how far I've gotten. I still have so much planned for this story. As I said in a previous author note, I plan to tie it in with several events in The Hobbit and LOTR. Have any suggestions for what to happen next? Review! Because I love reviews! Corrective criticism is welcome!**

**I will try to post a chapter every other night. My work week has increased to forty hours so I won't have a lot of time to write. But I shant give up on this story! And at least two sequels!**

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	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: More than Meets the Eye

Hana felt very cold during the night.

After Rosindium had been arrested and dragged out of sight, her immediate response was "How will we get to where they are imprisoning him?"

But to her surprise, Immelethrin simply shook his head, "There are far too little of us and far too many of them." He said.

"We can't just _leave _him!" she exclaimed in shock. "Are you not his friend?"

"I am!" he snapped, sufficiently silencing her. "But you do not understand, we cannot free him on our own. And even if we could, Rosindium would need to leave the Greenwood for an eternity to avoid Thranduil's grasp, and that would mean leaving his wife and daughter. Rosindium _wants_ to stand trial and receive his punishment, at least then he has a hope of returning to them."

"They will not imprison him for that long right?" she asked, looking up at the dark elf hopefully. He sighed, "I cannot say. Elves are immortal." He closed his eyes in frustration. "For now the best thing we can do is go to Rohan. It will not help Rosindium at all if we are imprisoned as well."

"How long will that take?" she asked, and after a moment of pondering Immelethrin said, "I know of a settlement not far south of the greenwood. If we could buy a horse we would make it to Edoras by the end of the week."

"And after that will we rescue him?" she asked.

"Let us get there first." He said, "Then we shall see."

They traveled on foot the rest of the day, not a word passing between them. Immelethrin wished to clear Thranduil's territory in haste, and since they were already so close to Dol Guldur, the duo were able to make it to the border by nightfall on the second day.

"Get some rest," Immelethrin said to her. "We will soon be arriving into open territory, and we will not want to remain there long."

Hana nodded, leaning back against the girth of an oak tree. The first night after her resurrection she had been able to sleep exceptionally (apparently being brought back from the dead was an exhausting activity). But now her mind wandered like it never had before. It wandered to Bofur and the family. Had Breva died in the two months that she had been away? She shuddered at the thought and pushed it aside. She would be home soon enough, and her time to grieve was then.

Her mind then wandered to Rosindium. She felt her emotions bubble with rage. How could a king arrest his citizen for driving a group of bandits from his borders? How could any of his actions possibly measure up to _treason_ of all things? She shoved that thought aside as well, for she would rescue Rosindium; but at the moment she needed to get to Edoras.

Lastly, her mind wandered to Thorin. _He must assume me dead, _she thought. Was he relieved to have such a burden removed from his shoulders? Probably. Hana bit her tongue at the thought. He had been the small ray of hope in the entirety of their journey, what did she mean to him?

She sighed, attempting to sleep. Those thoughts were irrelevant. She knew her feelings would never be reciprocated; he probably would not bother to speak to her when she arrived in Rohan. Why would he? He had probably already forgotten about her by now. _I don't need him, _she told herself. _At least I hope I don't._

Hana curled up against the tree. She would miss Thorin. She would miss his smile and his grumpy face in the mornings. She would miss how he spoke with her late and night and how his hair looked when he woke up. She shivered, pulling the fabric of her shirt tighter around her. More than anything, she would miss his warmth.

/

Near sundown Raolace halted the Rohirim and dismounted his horse. The rest of his men did the same- although- the dwarf prince was far less graceful, and would have fallen to the ground if not for the rider who swiftly grabbed the back of his shirt.

"We make camp for tonight," he said, and saw the look of exasperation on each of his men's faces, for if they were to continue riding they would reach Edoras before dawn. However Raolace had learned from experience. Orc packs were beginning to dot the lands, and if they were to go to battle he would rather have his men surprised and rested than surprised and exhausted.

"You know the dangers of these hills." He said, "Sleep close to your swords, two men on watch."

The men disassembled themselves and attempted to find a comfortable patch of grass to sleep on. When Raolace finally settled against a small incline, he let his eyes glance over the camp warily. It was not long before his eyes landed on Thorin.

The dwarf prince had not yet spoken to him; at least not willingly. The captain of the Rohirim felt a twinge of guilt for not going after the dwarf woman; judging by Thorin's reaction to her loss, they were obviously very close.

But he needn't dwell on such sad thoughts, for he had larger priorities than the feelings of a dwarf.

/

Bofur awoke to a scream, and then a crash.

Immediately the dwarf dashed from his bedroom and into the hall, still in his night clothes and not a single hair braided. It took him a moment to become coherent, but when he realized where the scream had come from, he felt his heart fill with dread.

Slowly, hesitantly, he pushed open the door to his mother's bedroom.

She lay in her bed, eyes closed and unmoving. Perhaps she was just sleeping?

But his heart dropped into his stomach when he saw Bafur. The young dwarf was curled up on the floor with tears on his cheeks. Beside him was a broken glass and water in a puddle around him. Bofur made his way to his mother's bedside, and gently enveloped her wrist to feel for a pulse.

Then shakily, slowly, he knelt down to the floor and gathered up Bafur into his arms. The little dwarf clutched at his shirt and sobbed into his shoulder, Bofur held him a little tighter.

"She called me in," The young dwarf choked. "She called me in and asked me to get her some water. So I did. I came back and…and…"

"Shhhh" Bofur said, for he did not want to wake the rest of his brothers; most of them would not understand.

"I didn't want her to die," he choked out. "I knew it was coming, but I didn't want it to."

Bofur rested his chin upon his little brother's head. He felt tears prickle in his eyes, but he held them back. He had to be the strong one.

"I didn't want her to go either," he whispered, looking up at the lifeless form of his mother in her bed. "I really didn't."

/

Hana enjoyed leaving the Greenwood and traveling on the open plains. After being in the crowded forest for weeks, stepping onto the open space felt like a breath of fresh air even hours after they began to travel in it. At the same time she felt much more vulnerable without the cover of trees. She glanced over at Immelethrin. He was an excellent fighter, but could he stand against a large group of men or orcs? Hana would be particularly useless, as she knew next to nothing about the warrior's art.

"What are you thinking?" The dark elf asked beside her, his black eyes darting in her direction briefly.

Hana scratched the back of her head, sighing. "I feel as if the fate of our mission would have changed drastically if I had some inkling of how to fight." She said. "I have been at the sidelines this entire time."

"Would you like me to teach you?" he asked, and Hana laughed a bit, "An elf teaching a dwarrowdam how to fight? Now that is something people will need to see to believe."

Immelethrin shrugged. "What does it matter what other people think?" he asked. "All that matters is that you do what you feel is right."

"Is that how Rosindium got arrested?" she asked, and when Immelethrin nodded his head hesitantly, she decided to delve deeper.

"Rosindium told me that there are forces of evil in the west; plotting to tear apart our world as we know it. Do you know anything about them?"

The elf's eyes glanced over the horizon for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"I am not at liberty to tell you everything quite yet." He said. "I am not even sure of the full story. But I will tell you this: do not trust _anyone._ Not your family, nor friends, nor even Thorin."

"Why not?" she asked, for Hana could not imagine a circumstance in which any of those people would wish harm upon her.

"All will be revealed in due time." said Immelethrin. "Just until then, be wary. Nothing in this world is exactly as it seems."

/

"You deserve much better than the likes of me," said Thorin. They were resting beneath a moonlit sky, not a soul was to be seen for miles, only two simple dwarves sitting next to one another and whispering their conversation.

Hana rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous Thorin, son of Thrain." She said, and leaned her head against his shoulder, "You are the prince of the highest kingdom in the east."

"That does not necessarily make me a good person," said Thorin. He could not help but stare; for her hair shined like gold in the darkness, and her freckles were also more profound, like the rays of stars against a black sky.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked as she as she turned to him, her long eyelashes rimmed the wide eyes that looked up at him expectantly, oh how happy he was to have her back. "After we get home? Or will you return to being a prince?"

He felt his hand find hers, and their fingers intertwined. "If you would have me I would stay."

She smiled at him, a wide innocent smile, and he reciprocated it. He lay down on his back, ready for a well-deserved rest.

"Hana?" he asked, craning his head up to look at her. Did she not plan to sleep as well? When she did not respond to him, he sat up. "Hana what is it?"

Slowly she turned to him, her face pale and her eyes full of tears. What he saw next nearly killed him; her abdomen was covered in blood, and right in the middle was a dagger.

"I'm dying," she said shakily as she removed the weapon from her gut.

Thorin immediately grabbed her shoulders and laid her down, then took off his coat to press it against the heavily bleeding wound. How had this happened?

"I've got you," he said, taking her hand into his. Hana was convulsing on the ground in apparent pain, blood erupting from her mouth and nose. He smoothed a blood stained hand over her forehead in an attempt to calm her, and then scanned the area for an attacker.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, holding her hand tightly. He could not lose her- not again.

Between sobs and chokes- Hana whimpered, "You."

His heart dropped in confusion and panic. "What?"

"You said you would protect me," she cried, "But in the end, you killed me." Her eyes met his, pleading in agony. He put covered his mouth, shaking his head. "Why would you hurt me like this?"

He watched her spasms slow, and then stop. Her breathing diminished to nothing, and slowly, her eyes glazed over.

"Not this." He whispered. "_Anything_ but this," his voice cracked and a bellow of agony wrenched itself from his throat as he dug his nails into his palms. What had he done?

A hand shook his shoulder, and Thorin's eyes snapped open to see Raolace standing above him. "Time to get going."

The dwarf prince sat up. The sky had an orange sun on the horizon, and men all around him were packing up their bedrolls and supplies, Hana was nowhere to be seen. Thorin looked down at his shaking hands- there was no blood.

"We will reach Edoras sometime today," Raolace said, "I suggest you hurry, Master Dwarf."

/

"I can see the settlement!" Immelethrin called to her from where he stood atop the hill.

"How far?" The blonde dwarf asked as he dropped to the ground beside her.

"Three hours of walking I would say," The elf gazed up at the sun, judging how much day light was left. "If we hurry, we could make it in one."

Hana nodded, "Let us go then."

The two set off at a sprint which slowly declined into a jog. Immelethrin could have ran at full speed the entire way, but he knew that Hana could not, so he kept a slow, steady pace beside her. It would be very good indeed to get a horse.

They managed to reach the village gates at sundown. The man who stood guard outside halted them in their tracks. "What business do an elf and a dwarf have in my town?" he asked, eyes warily scanning over the two.

"We are travelers," Immelethrin explained, "On our way to Rohan. We seek an inn for the night.

It did not take much time to find the only inn in the minute village. It was two floors, with a creaky wooden door and a sign above that said, "Ale, Food, Bed." Inside there were a few empty tables set up around a large fireplace, a stairway that led up to the rooms and a counter with a little old woman behind it, fast asleep on a stool.

"We need a room," Immelethrin explained as he approached her. The woman's head snapped up. "A room? Really?" she asked, obvious excitement in her tone.

"Erm…yes?"

"It's been an age since I've had customers!" she said happily, bustling to the full key rack in the corner. "This is quite the turnout indeed."

Immelethrin nodded, taking out his satchel to retrieve money. "Two beds, if you don't mind."

"Whatever for?" the woman asked as she turned to look at him incredulously.

"One for me and one for my…" but Immelethrin trailed off as he turned to look for Hana, only to find empty air.

"Hold the room," he said, slapping a handful of silver coins on the table. "I'll be back."

/

To her credit, it was not often Hana had seen a woman turn into a wolf.

It had happened not long after they had entered the village. A seemingly ordinary old woman with silver hair and a loose green dress passed them by and entered into a nearby alley. Hana assumed that that was the last they would see of her, but as they walked by, what Hana saw caught her completely off guard – a wolf, and not just any wolf, a huge white one that was at least six feet on all fours, wearing a green dress.

Hana stopped in her tracks and watched as the beast tore the dress from itself, and then carefully began to stalk down the alleyway. Quietly, she followed.

The wolf first took a left, and then a right, its paws treading the ground silently as it weaved its way through the houses. As Hana continued to follow, she found herself at a dead end; she had reached the large brick wall that encompassed the settlement.

_I should go back the way I cam_e, She told herself, but at the same time, the curiosity was killing her, and before she knew it Hana found herself scaling down the outward side of the wall and into the open plains that surrounded the settlement. When her feet hit the ground however, she felt a warm breath ghost against her neck. Slowly, she turned, only to have her nose press into a thick mass of white fur.

In shock she tried to step away, but her back hit the wall she had just climbed. She looked up to see the wolf eyeing her from above. It let out a low, deep growl.

"Who are you? And why have you followed me?"

Hana took a breath, were animals supposed to talk?

"I…I am Hana," she said shakily, "I mean you no harm. I was just curious-"

"Curious?" it growled, "Did curiosity not kill the cat?" Hana swallowed- saying nothing.

"Ah, but you are not a cat," said the wolf, "You are a dwarf. What are you doing so far from your home?"

Hana figured that the longer she spoke, the longer she lived. "I'm looking for a friend."

"I am doing the same, in a sense," said the wolf. "But here is the dilemma, you have seen me, and now you will go and spread it around the village that a giant she-wolf is on its outskirts, and I cannot afford that."

"I won't!" Hana exclaimed, "I promise I won't!"

The wolf chuckled. "Oh the promises of mortals… they say those are the ones you should avoid, but I have found that immortals are by far more sinister."

The wolf's face neared hers, its teeth bared. Hana closed her eyes, preparing for the worst.

But the bite never came. She opened her eyes only to find no wolf in sight. Hana let out a deep breath she did not know that she was holding in.

"What are you doing?" A voice came from above her, causing her to nearly jump out of her shoes. She turned to see Immelethrin standing atop the wall and gazing down at her accusingly.

"I-I… There was a wolf." She said as the dark elf offered her a hand up, and she accepted it.

"A wolf?" he asked when she had reached the top. Hana nodded, and he then slapped his palm to his forehead in frustration. "So you followed it?"

"It was a woman." She said.

"What?" he asked incredulously as he jumped down into the village; she followed. As he began to walk away she said:

"It was a woman that turned into a wolf."

Immelethrin froze in his tracks, his eyes wide. He swiveled around to her and took her arm, immediately breaking into a sprint towards the inn.

"We need to get inside," he said, pace quickening, and Hana struggled to keep up.

"Why?"

Immelethrin looked back at her, his onyx eyes filled with something that was similar to fear. "Because she is here to kill me."

**/**

**New chapter! This one was really hard to write, I suffered from intense writers block when I had to separate Hana and Thorin. (So I brought them back together briefly) Immelethrin's face palm tho I hope this chapter isn't too depressing. It'll get better, trust me. This storyline is going to be soooo much more intricate than a simple love story. Thanks for reading guys, you're legit ;)**

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	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Failure

Raolace and his company reached Edoras in time for supper; the Rohirim rode hard and fast, more than ready to arrive home from a rather difficult and confusing journey.

Thorin was actually astonished that they had not run into an orc pack, been attacked by a dragon, or fallen victim to an earth quake, for his past few months had been full of nothing save bad luck and sorrow.

The group entered the city seemingly unnoticed. People nodded their heads and waved occasionally in greeting to the large company of men, but other than that, it seemed as if the Rohirim could have just been average citizens and not the most skilled group of horsemen on the east side of the Misty Mountains.

As they neared the large building that Thorin assumed to be the King's Hall, Raolace dismounted his horse.

"I give you leave," he said to his men. "Bring the horses to their stables and return home." He gazed at Thorin. "As for you master dwarf- come with me."

Thorin did his best to look majestic while dismounting his horse, it was a difficult thing to do for someone who was hardly five feet tall, and who had been bouncing at the edge of a saddle for three days straight, but he managed.

As the Rohirim rode away, Raolace guided him up a wide, stone stair case. From there at the top of the hill Thorin could view the country side in its entirety, barren and treeless, giving Edoras no form of camouflage. At the same time however, it would be near impossible to sneak into the city, and an invasion going uphill would exhaust even the strongest opponents after a while.

Two soldiers stood guard at the large doors atop the staircase. As they climbed nearer, a man appeared in the doorway. He had large, dark eyes, and his head and face were completely bald. It seemed as if the man grew no hair whatsoever! Thorin shuddered at the thought, what an unfortunate soul.

"Welcome home sir," said the man, his eyes traveled from Raolace to Thorin. "I assume your trip was successful then?"

The captain of the Rohirim nodded. "This is Thorin, son of Thrain, prince under the mountain. Thorin, this is Undomner, the chief advisor to king Fengel of Rohan."

"Greetings." Thorin said, his voice sounding stale in his throat.

"The pleasure is all mine."

"May we see the king?" Raolace inquired, and Undomner nodded, "He has been awaiting your arrival."

/

Immelethrin and Hana waited quietly in their room. After the two had raced to reach the inn, and after they offered the innkeeper a substantial sum of money to keep quiet about their stay, Immelethrin took their keys and bounded up the stairs. Hana- hurrying after him with her short legs- asked, "What do you mean?"

Immelethrin said nothing, only hurried down the hall to their room, and unlocked the door with shaky hands. The two entered; he slammed the door behind her and immediately turned the key to lock it again. He then went to the window and peered out of it for several moments; shushing her every time she so much as breathed loudly. Finally he locked the window as well, and brought the drapes to close in front of it, leaving them in complete darkness. Because of her dwarf blood, Hana's eyes adjusted quickly. She motioned to the lamp on the table, silently asking if it should be lit, but Immelethrin shook his head furiously and then brought a finger to his lips.

They stood like that listening for several minutes. The hairs on the back of her neck were on end as she trained her ears for the slightest creak of the floorboard or sigh of breath. After what seemed like hours. Immelethrin said- "I think we will be able to whisper."

"Now will you explain this to me?" she asked in a silent tone.

"Where to begin?" asked the elf, sitting at the foot of one of the beds and rubbing his face. Hana sat at the edge of the other bed.

"When I was very young I used to hunt the poisonous snakes near our village in order to keep the people safe. I always hunted in a group, but one day- for whatever reason- I decided to be adventurous and go alone. I took my crossbow and left at dawn." He looked up at her, "It was the biggest mistake that I have made in my entire life."

"What happened?" Hana breathed.

"I was bit- twice in fact before I managed to kill the vermin- once on the ankle and once on the knee. I tried to run back to the village, but barely made it a few yards before collapsing." He winced, as if reliving the agony he had been through that day. "I was waiting to die, but not long after I fell, a woman with long silvery hair appeared to me. She told me 'I will heal you, and you will live, but for a price.' I agreed, being too unfocused to enquire the price, but as soon as she healed me, she took out a knife and cut me right here." He ran a hand over the smooth chocolate colored skin above his left eyebrow. "She told me these exact words: 'A life for a life, when this scar fades, I will come for you.' I watched her walk away, and as the sunset, I saw her transform into a huge, white, wolf." He sighed, not meeting her eyes. "My scar has faded. She has come."

/

King Fengel eyed up the dwarf prince when he entered his hall. He was absolutely filthy, covered in an assortment of dirt, dust, and blood. There were tear streaks on his face, although he probably was not aware of them. The king could not help but cringe when he saw the deep sores on Thorin's wrist, and the hastily stitched up gash on his forehead- this dwarf had been through hell.

"I welcome you to Edoras," said the king as he stepped down from his throne to meet the dwarf prince.

"Thank you for sending your men." Thorin said. "I would most likely be dead if you had not."

"An official of Erebor- Balin I think - requested I help you. He said that he would cut the cost of the iron to one third of its promised price if I saved you."

When he saw the dwarf prince's eyes widen considerably, Fengel rushed on, "But let us not discuss trade for the time being. You must be tired from your ordeal. I will have a page escort you to a guests quarters, there you can have a wash and get a good night's rest. We will discuss business matters in the morning."

The look of anxiety on Thorin's face ebbed into that of relief. "Thank you, sir."

The King nodded, "I will be sure to have someone bring you dinner. I shall see you tomorrow morning then?"

"I shall see you then."

/

The first thing Thorin did when he arrived at his quarters was kick off his boots. He then proceeded to peel off all of his clothes, which was a longer process than he had anticipated. Any area where he had received a wound in his flesh, and there were many, the cloth of his shirt and fabric seemed to be infused with it. When he had successfully taken them off, Thorin found that he was covered head to toe in a thick layer of dirt. Blood and bruises littered his arms, legs, and torso. And the smell- well he pitied anyone who had been within ten feet of him that day.

There was a door on the leftish side of the room that led to what was probably his bathing quarters. Upon entering and discovering that he was correct. Thorin turned to the small tub in the middle of the room. It was halfway underground, a pump at the side had a pipe that extended up into the ceiling and then behind the wall. Thorin pushed on the handle, allowing steamy water to enter the tub. Immediately the smell of rotten eggs filled the air and it dawned on him: _There is a hot springs nearby. They must have built in some sort of plumbing system to pump the water to the baths._

He took his time to wash up, rinsing his skin and hair with the provided soap repeatedly until the water had turned brown. The prince drained to pool and stepped out; it felt good to be clean. Of course all dwarves did not mind being a dirty once in a while, it was the sign of a hard worker; but even he had limits, and two months without a proper wash was far too long.

Upon entering his room Thorin found that a set of clothes were laid out on his bed, as well as a tray of food on the table. The clothes were a little loose on him; he had lost a generous amount of weight. _I must begin my sword practices very soon_, he thought as he pulled the belt a little tighter around his waist. _I need to gain some muscle back before I return. _

Thorin stopped for a moment, thinking about what had just crossed his mind. He _would _return, alive and well to his family and home. Hana…

Thorin pinched himself in an effort to block that thought. Ever since the nightmare of that morning he had been doing whatever he could to ward off thoughts of her. For it hurt far too much to remember; to remember the many smiles and laughs they had shared, to remember her insanely blue eyes and soft voice. It hurt to think about how Hana had been his first friend-no_- _his first _best_ friend, and most likely his last.

He had lost his appetite, but Thorin forced himself to take a bite from the generous slice of salted pork they had brought him for dinner. Silent tears began to fall from his eyes as he took another bite. _Why did this hurt so badly?_ Shaking, he tried to will them away, but the tears continued to come, dropping onto the white table cloth beneath him and littering it with small wet circles. He slowly put his eating utensils down and pushed his plate aside, for fear that at any moment he would throw it across the room. He rubbed his eyes once, twice, but his tears would not stop falling. Nothing had ever hurt him like this.

And although he would never admit it, Thorin cried himself to sleep that night.

/

It had been a relief to wake up that morning.

Immelethrin rolled out of his stiff bed and began to put on his boots. He stopped however when he saw that the bed next to him was completely empty. Panic shook him and he cursed. He hastily put on his equipment, and then rushed to the door, but it swung open before he could reach it. There stood, Hana, a brown sack in her hands and an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"You _really_ should stop doing that." He said with a sigh.

"What?" she asked innocently as she entered the room, shutting and locking the door behind her. She then sat on her bed and began to lace her boots up.

"Leaving without telling me." He hoped he sounded thoroughly annoyed, because he was- and maybe a tiny bit relieved, but more so the former than the later.

Hana rolled her eyes. "I was having nightmares; I could not sleep, so I decided to go buy us some food from the market place- she's after you- not me."

Immelethrin put his hand to his forehead. Were all dwarves this absurd? "You could have at least let me know." And when Hana opened her mouth to retort, he cut her off, "Never mind, just gather your things and we'll go buy a horse, we're losing daylight."

/

They bought a tall, barrel-bellied mare with a chestnut coat and quite a bit of muscle. However, they did not buy a comfortable saddle, so as a dwarf; Hana found riding both torturous and terrifying to say the least.

She was grateful for how much land they had managed to cover in just that day. The planes flew past as Immelethrin kept the horse at a steady, quick pace. They had luckily not encountered a single orc pack, only a few solo travelers that they were sure to keep their distance from.

That night they rested on the banks of the river Anduin. It was wide and by no means peaceful. It brought back some bad memories, Hana was sure to sleep as far away from the banks as she could when setting out her bedroll. "I will take the first watch?" she asked as Immelethrin set up his sleeping area as well. The elf nodded, offering a small "Thank you," before getting underneath his blankets and not saying another word.

Hana looked up at the moon, shuddering a bit as she remembered her nightmare from that morning. She had seen Thorin, sitting on his own underneath a tree. He twiddled his thumbs and bit his lip, obviously waiting for something to occur. She was about to reach out to him when a huge, black mass appeared from the trees. It spread against the scenery, devouring anything it came in contact with. "Thorin!" she had called, reaching out her hand to him. The dwarf prince turned to her, his grey eyes wide with anxiety; he stretched his hand out halfway, only to snap it back to his chest, his eyes narrowed. "I do not need you," he said as the darkness swallowed him, and despite all of her fears, she had ventured in to find him. Only to be awoken by the sound of her own shuffling.

/

Rosindium's eyes darted around the hall that he had been placed in. _Not a cell_ he reminded himself. _Not yet._ Two elves stood guard beside him. What would his sentence be? Treason would call for at least seventy years, and then fifty of probation. Oh how he wished he could see his family right now.

Hearing footsteps, he turned to see King Thranduil approaching. His guards bowed, and he followed the best he could in his chains.

"Explain yourself." said Thranduil, icy blue eyes not once leaving his. Rosindium took a breath, and began to recall all of the events that had occurred over the past two months, starting with Thorin's capture and ending with being arrested. When he was finished he said, "I did not do this to spite you, my King."

"Then why did you?" Thranduil asked, "Why did you disobey my orders to not get involved? The dwarf prince was none of our concern."

"The Black Council is." he said lowly.

Thranduil's eyes widened. "Leave us," he said, motioning to the guards at Rosindium's side. When they were out of ear shot, the elf king leaned in closer to him. "The Black Council is has lost its leader. I killed him myself."

"And they have elected a new one." said Rosindium. "A man who is high in the Kings court of Rohan, who plans to send the entirety of middle earth into the largest war we will _ever_ witness. That is why I became involved, and why I rescued the prince." the elf felt his voice grow in seriousness. "We need to act now, or the world will turn to chaos."

Thranduil was quiet. Finally, after a few moments, he took a key from his robe and unlocked Rosindium from his chains. "I will need your help."

/

Thorin did not once reread the letter he had written to Balin.

That morning he splashed some cold water against his face in an effort to take away the swelling from his eyes, and upon realizing it was no use, he quietly made his way to the king's hall, all the while ignoring the throbbing in his heart.

"So are you in agreement with your grandfather's offer?" Fengel asked when he had entered. Thorin rubbed his temples; Balin had _definitely_ made this offer without his grandfather's consent. He would go to prison the moment Thror found out; but Balin knew the consequences of his actions. His grandfather would make the trade to avoid disgruntlement with the west; but he would be enraged nevertheless. Thorin only hoped that he would be able to convince his him to release Balin from prison upon his return.

"I am in agreement," he said. "I will send a letter requesting the iron be brought to Rohan, and guarded by several more men."

Fengel nodded. "I will send my Rohirim out to meet them and help in any way they can."

Thorin had hurried to scribble a note, and then a page escorted him to where he was now, placing the folded parchment into the compartment strapped to the hawks back. He released it out the window, hoping that his advisor knew what he was doing.

/

Immelethrin gazed upon the horizon, his ears twitching.

Someone was coming.

"You sense them to?" he heard Hana ask behind him. The elf nodded. "There are many," he pointed at the wide hill about a mile ahead. "They will be coming from over there."

"Are they orcs?"

"Most definitely, no one makes noise like orcs."

"Will we fight them then?" she asked.

"I wilil."

"I want to help!" she hissed. Immelethrin took his crossbow and armed it, then handed his sword to her. "I will target them, you kill anyone who gets close," he jumped off of the mare, and then helped her down. "Be ready Hana,"

A black figure came over the horizon then- a large armored orc astride a warg.

Aiming, he fired two rounds, one into the chest of the orc, and the other through the throat of the warg. They both crippled to the ground. He took a breath.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

A sudden stream of orcs crested the hill and began to move towards them. He landed an arrow in anyone he could, orcs and wargs fell left and right. He had taken out fifteen before he missed, and even then the shot went into a different warg, sending its rider tumbling off and down the hill, only to be crushed by the beast. Immelethrin continued to hit his targets, but he still had one remaining when he ran out of arrows. The last orc let out a shrill yell, then advanced.

He took his sword from Hana and pushed her towards the mare. "Rohan is about a day away. Take the horse, and ride to the south as fast as possible." He hoisted her into the saddle.

"But-"

"Do as I say!"

Hana glared at him. "I will come back for you-" She started.

"I will kill you if you do," he responded, hoping he sounded serious. And despite her protests, he slapped the rump of the horse and sent the two galloped away.

Immelethrin dropped his crossbow. Cracking his knuckles, he took the sword in hand an awaited the approach of his enemy.

What followed was a nightmare.

When within distance, the first thing Immelethrin did was throw a dagger. The knife lodged itself into the warg's skull, and as the dog fell the orc leaped off, flying through the air and knocking him over. The elf had been pinned for a moment as the orc raised his sword and let out a snarl. Immelethrin used all of the strength he had to throw the vile creature off. The elf then rounded on him, bringing their swords to a clash. The duel did not last long however, as he soon discovered the orc's weakness to be his footwork. The elf side stepped a blow and then turned to kick him in the hip, sending the beast to the ground. He then wasted no time advancing, and brought his sword down into the creatures chest.

When he was sure that the orc was thoroughly dead, Immelethrin cleaned his sword against the grass, and sheathed it. He sat, taking a moment to catch his breath and let his adrenaline ebb away.

"My, my Immelethrin, tired already?" said a voice. The elf froze; his breath hitching. Slowly, he turned and felt his stomach drop, for before him stood a white wolf.

"Your scar has faded. I have come."

/

**I'm so sorry to leave you hanging again, but do not fear! The next chapter shall be a lot happier (well, sort of) Stay tuned for Hana and Thorin's reunion! **

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	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: Coming to Terms

Hana did her best to not fracture a leg while dismounting the horse. Slowly she lowered herself down into the wreckage that had once been peaceful land. A warg lay dead with a knife embedded in its skull not far from her. There was an orc face down a few yards away, and judging by the amount of blood that pooled around its body, he was also dead. Carefully, she picked her way through torn clothing and disheveled grass. After searching the entire plain for Immelethrin, she found herself standing where they had originally been separated all of those hours ago.

On the ground she found the elf's tunic, wrenched open and covered in blood. His sword lay sheathed in his belt not far from it. There was however no body or pieces of body for that matter, of the elf. Hana swallowed, forcing herself to accept what she had so fervently prayed would not occur; her friend had been captured.

Hana gingerly picked up the crossbow and quiver, and proceeded to strap them to her back. She then reached for his sword, and pulled the belt tightly around her waist. She took one last look around, and then with great effort mounted the horse. As she rode away, the dwarf bit her lip to keep her eyes dry. _There goes another friend._

/

Bofur did not like the place he had buried his mother. It was beautiful- of course, dwarves would not accept anything less than the best for their deceased loved ones. Glittering gems decorated the walls and each tombstone was plated with gold. A ceremony had been held that he did not pay much attention to. Several people had arrived to pay their respects to Breva, but he did not speak to any of them. He only focused on keeping a steady hand on Bombur's shoulder as his other hand cradled Bumble.

When the priest finished everyone had shed a few tears save him, for he could not do that. Bofur was all his brother's had left, and he would not have them believe for a moment that he was not up to the challenge.

/

Hana was weary of riding the mare, and extremely sore in the legs. Despite this, she kept her horse in a gallop; for if an orc pack were to appear, she would be utterly defenseless. It was in those moments that she mentally committed herself to learn how to fight- she was tired of waiting on the sidelines to be saved.

Edoras had been on the horizon for a few hours, but now it was sundown, and she was close enough to see the smoke of chimneys. Hana pressed on, and it was not very long before she reached the gates of the city, only stopping when a guard called out to her.

"State your buis-"

"Are you Hana?" a voice overran that of the guard's as a man appeared from behind the gate. He was tall, muscular, and clad in full Rohirim armor. He looked far too familiar for coincidence.

Hana nodded, dismounting her horse. "I am a dwarf of the Goldbeard clan. I hail from-"

"Erebor, I know." He interrupted as he approached, taking the reins of the horse and turning to the guard. "Allow her entrance. She is a guest."

The guard obeyed his orders, and pushed the twin doors of the gate open just wide enough to allow her and her horse through.

"You are lucky you came while I was at the gate," he said. "There is far too much suspicion in these lands- they would have never let some stranger dwarf into the city."

"Who are you? And how did you know who I am?" she asked, following the man further into Edoras. He looked back at her, an overexcited grin spreading onto his face.

"I am Raolace, captain of the Rohirim, and you have no idea how happy I am to see you alive."

/

Thorin awoke to a harsh knock. At first he tried to ignore it, hoping that maybe it was just his imagination. But whoever was behind the door was persistent, and after a few moments of the sound, he gave in. With his night clothes disheveled and hair thoroughly a mess, the dwarf prince rolled out of bed and headed towards the door, ready to give whoever decided to wake him at this ungodly hour a piece of his mind. He turned the knob and pulled. "What is it?" he growled, only to have his hand drop to his side and his heart stop when he saw who it was.

_Hana._

She looked different than he remembered. Her blonde hair and pale skin were clean, free of any sign of blood or dirt. She wore a completely white night dress. _This must be another dream. _He thought, but how could it be? For his dreams had never been this vivid.

"Sorry to wake you," she said, her eyes not meeting his. "Raolace told me that you wouldn't mind. By the looks of it though, you seem fairly tired. Maybe I should just leave-"

Before he could even think about what he was doing, Thorin grabbed Hana by the shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace, efficiently shushing her. He buried his face into the crook of her neck just too simply breathe her in.

"Please don't leave," he heard his voice crack, but he didn't care. "Don't leave," he mumbled again as he began to shake. Mahal, it was really her.

"I won't" said Hana as her arms came up around him and pulled him a little closer.

"I thought you to be dead." He whispered, pulling back to examine her face- the midnight blue eyes and scatter of freckles just the same as he remembered. His hand came up on its own accord to push a strand of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. "I thought I'd lost you."

"It's a long story," she said with a hint of a smile on her lips, oh how he had missed the sight. "I will listen."

/

The two dwarves sat with their legs crossed, facing one another in front of his hearth. Thorin occasionally threw a block of wood into the fire, but by the time Hana had finished her story all that was left was embers.

"The king gave me a guest quarters down the hall. I had a wash and tried to sleep, but Raolace had told me that you would be thoroughly unhappy if I did not tell you that I was here, so I knocked on your door, and here we are."

"It grieved me to think that I would never see you again." Thorin admitted, looking down at his hands. The sores that resulted from the ropes against his skin had been scabbed over- they would heal, yet no doubt leave scars. "I mourned."

Hana was unsure of what to say. _Very funny? I'm sorry? Just kiss me already you fool?_ But all that came out was, "I did not expect you to even notice my return."

Thorin frowned, taking her hands into his, and Hana flushed at the gesture. "I do not jest. I was haunted by the thought of your murder. Not to mention, the fact that I would have to tell Bofur terrified me."

"Are you sure? The thought of seeing you trying to ride a horse seems much more horrific."

The dwarf prince smirked at the jibe. "A right fool you are Hana." He stood, gently pulling her up with him. "We should both try to get some sleep before the sun rises."

They walked to Hana's quarters, and Thorin opened the door for her. He grabbed her by the elbow however before she could enter. "I am glad to have you back," he whispered, his tone of voice steady, but every other part of him seemed to shake.

"You really did mourn for me?" she enquired, for the thought that the dwarf prince would actually miss her never once crossed her mind.

"I felt as if the sadness was eating me alive." He admitted in a rush, his eyes darting to and fro. Unsure of what else to do- Hana brought him into a gentle hug. Not the bone crushing tight embrace that he had first greeted her with, but a soft yet firm confirmation that she was with him, and did not intend to leave. Thorin returned it, bringing his large hands to rest on her back. She felt her entire body relax, and for once, Hana did not mind being in love with him.

/

The next day Thorin woke her up around noon. "Find some clothes and meet me at the entrance of the grand hall." He said, "It's high time you learned how to use a sword."

At that, Hana excitedly changed from her night gown into a leather tunic and a loose pair of pants that had been placed on her table. Lacing up her boots, the dwarrowdam grabbed an apple from the plate of food she had received and sunk her teeth in it, successfully holding the fruit in her mouth as she braided her hair.

She contemplated taking Immelethrin's sword to train, but decided against it. Upon arriving in Edoras the first thing she did was tell Fengel the fate of her elf friend, and begged for his assistance. The king had told her that he would speak to Raolace about the matter. Hana had a feeling that she would return Immelethrin's sword to him soon, she only hoped that he would be living when she did.

/

"What about this one?" Hana asked, trying and failing to heft a hammer that probably weighed more than her. Thorin shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"At this rate you'll kill yourself before we even start."

He had already chosen his blade, a simple yet stealthy weapon that was light enough to yield yet strong enough to not break upon heavy impact. He had spoken with Raolace, and the captain had agreed that they could each take home with them a weapon from the royal armory, but they would pay with Hana's mare.

Thorin had decided very quickly after she returned that he would teach her self-defense. There was no way he was losing her again.

His fingers brushed over the hilts of the weapons. Most of them were much too large or too heavy for Hana, eventually though, his eyes landed on a medium length sword with a red leather handle. Upon unsheathing it and tossing it back and forth a few times, he found it to be exceptionally balanced, and almost too light for him to wield. _Perfect._

"Try this out," he said, carefully handing her the weapon.

"I like it," she replied as she took it into her hands, swinging it experimentally. The dwarf prince shook his head at her poor footing and lazy posture; they had a lot of work to do.

The dwarves were not alone in the training grounds. Several others- mostly male youths, hacked at dummies or strung arrows into targets. To Thorin's relief however- none of the dueling areas had been taken. He dragged Hana over to one of them. A large circle had been painted into the gravel to mark the sparing area. He brought her to stand on the left of it, and himself on the right.

"Ready your sword." He said, unsheathing his own and bringing it out in front of him. Hana did the same, albeit a little clumsily.

"There are three rules in a spar." He said, and Hana nodded in understanding.

"Number one, only swords. No biting, pulling, elbowing, tripping or punching- heaven knows you can do that."

She laughed, and Thorin felt something warm in his chest, this time however, he did not dismiss the feeling, but allowed it to grow. He was not going to make the mistake of taking her for granted.

"Rule number two- stay within the circle. If either of us steps over the line, it is an automatic failure." He could almost see the gears turning in her head, already thinking of possible ways to beat him.

"Rule number three, if you are disarmed or I tap you with my sword in any vital places, you lose and we start over."

Hana scoffed, "Has it ever occurred to you that _you'll_ be the one losing?" she asked smugly, and the prince rolled his eyes.

"I am going to add one last rule." He said, "If you become to weary, or if I hurt you somehow, tell me, and we will stop."

Hana's sarcastic grin faded, and her tone turned serious, "you as well."

"Alright," said the dwarf prince as he secured his footing. "attack."

Hana raised her sword and advanced. Thorin blocked a swing from the right, and then side stepped a diagonal blow as she came back. The dwarf woman growled in frustration as he parried away another swing. The prince then brought his sword up in a sweeping motion, and Hana blocked it easily, but she let out a yelp when he swung his sword around and tapped the flat of the blade against her side.

"Dead." He said, but stopped when he felt her blade tap against his lower left ribcage.

"Also dead," she said with a smirk.

"I've already killed you."

"Maybe I've been resurrected."

"That's impossible!"

"It's not like I haven't done it before."

Thorin tried to hide his smile, ah- their banter. He had missed this as well. "Mahal you're stubborn." He said exasperatedly as he drew away from her. Hana laughed. "I've learned from the best."

/

Balin,

I have indeed arrived safely in Edoras; although it brings me great sorrow to inform you that Hana did not make it out of this alive. She will not be returning to Erebor.

King Fengel has informed me of your plan to lower the cost of the iron you will be bringing; and while I am grateful that I am freed, I must question your tactics. You know that my grandfather will be enraged when you return from Rohan with so little profit. You know that the consequences will more likely than not result in imprisonment. King Fengel expects the iron here by the end of the month, so please- tell me what I must do to reverse this.

Thorin

Balin felt a rush of joy overcome him. _Thorin was alive!_ His plan had succeeded and the heir would be returning home safely. But as the old dwarf reread the letter, the realization of what his future held began to sink in.

He had lied to his king, and forged the royal seal. That would call for treason at least. Not to mention- he shuddered- what Thror would do when he found out how much money he had lost. Balin would soon be kissing his life goodbye and moving into a cell.

At that thought- Hana came to mind. It saddened him to think that such a young and innocent soul had died. He would need to tell Bofur, oh how the news would break his heart. First the dwarf had lost his mother and now Hana? It would crush whatever happiness he had left.

Balin gazed out the window at the cold night sky. Bofur deserved to know of his sister's death. But at that moment- his mother's funeral had just been that morning. Balin would wait until he absolutely had to, until the day he was leaving, to tell Bofur.

/

**I was intending to add sooooo much more to this, but I figured that I'd let you guys see them together again before I bombarded you with plot. I feel like Thorin was a little ooc in this chapter, but remember this takes place before Smaug's attack and the battle of Azanulbizar; so I assumed he wouldn't have such a "stick up the ass" personality yet. That and his smiles are super amazing! I'll try to bust a new chapter out in the next three days. As for those who follow/favorite, REVIEW- you guys are amazing, and sometimes the only reason I'm still writing. **

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	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Awakening

Immelethrin awoke to the clatter of thunder. His eyes half opened, but he shut them again as a pounding erupted in his head and his ears started to ring. Taking a breath and opening his eyes slowly, the elf could not help but groan.

He was in a barred cell, the walls surrounding it were built out of a gray, damp stone that seemed to be crumbling to bits. What had happened? He had turned to look at the wolf, she had charged him and he grabbed the closest thing he could- the sword of the deceased orc. Every moment following that seemed to be a blur of colors, movements, and pain, _a lot_ of pain, before all went dark.

The elf tried to stand up, but soon fell to his knees when a sharp burning sensation ripped through his abdomen. He looked down to see that he was bare from the waist up save a large, neatly tied bandage.

_Oh._

He did remember that- the teeth of the wolf sinking through his skin and into his organs, only to shake him until every part of his body seemed to be in shreds.

Then how on earth was he still living- and more importantly- why?

"Ah… You're awake." A voice rang out almost as if it were an answer to his thoughts. A tall, leering man stood outside of his meager cell. He was rather thin; almost sickly so, with clammy skin and a mop of graying hair. His eyes were intensely green, and his lips were upturned in a sinister smirk beneath his hooked nose.

"My pet was kind enough to give me whatever was left of you. She loves the taste of a person's blood- the more desperate, the better." He moved closer to the cell, and held out a flask of water through the bars. The elf was hesitant at first, but then realized that this man had kept him alive for a purpose, so there was no use in poisoning him now. He took the beverage and downed it in a few draughts.

"Why am I here?" he asked, handing the flask back to the strange looking man.

"Because you are growing far too curious of my plans, Immelethrin." He said as the flask disappeared into his cloak. "Because you can be quite useful to me." His eyes gleamed with something that made the elf feel sick on the inside. "And because I hear tell that you know who killed my son, Fradun."

/

Taurien's heart sped up to an ungodly pace when she heard the door to her home open and shut. The sound was followed by light footsteps that approached the bedroom where she stood, but when the door opened, she felt herself melt with relief at the sight of her husband- a little worse for wear, but perfectly fine.

"Rosindium!" she exclaimed when she all but flung herself into his arms. She took a moment to relish in his warmth before pulling back. "You and Immelethrin were gone for so long. I was worried out of my mind!"

She felt his lips press against her forehead and upon taking his hand, found it to be quivering.

"What is it?" she asked, drawing back to look at him in the eyes.

Rosindium squeezed her hand. "There is much I need to tell you." Taurien nodded, pulling him over so that they could sit on the bed, with their daughter sleeping in her cradle near the window.

"Ro, what is it?" she asked, brushing a hand through his hair. Her husband took a deep breath before he spoke. "You cannot stay here for much longer." He said. "Many things are going to come to pass, and I do not wish for you to be in danger, you must take Tauriel and go to Rivendell. You will be safe there."

"Why?" she asked, feeling worry arise. "What is happening Ro?"

"Please," he started, looking her in the eyes unwavering. "If you love me, you will do this."

Taurien felt herself nod, despite the dread that was growing in her heart. Her hand came up to brush his freckled cheek "I will. Just please, tell me what's wrong?"

"Taurien, I think I'm going to die."

/

When she did not awake to the sound of Thorin beating on her door and telling her to get ready to train, Hana was confused. Rain splattered heavily against the glass of her window as she rolled out of bed, and upon looking outside, saw that the sky was gray for miles. The storm would not cease any time soon.

She contemplated getting dressed- but there was no reason to. She would not be meeting with the king today nor sparing with Thorin it seemed. She thanked her lucky stars for the later; over the course of three days Thorin had had her train almost nonstop. By the now every muscle she had was aching, and she was almost completely sure that her hands were about to fall off at the wrist.

Clad in a blue night gown with her hair going in every direction, Hana exited her room and made her way down the hall to Thorin's quarters. She did not see a soul on her way, and wondered just how early it really was.

The door opened a few moments after she knocked, with the dwarf prince who answered looking equally disheveled and sleepy.

"I didn't wake you?" she asked as she came in. A fire was crackling in the hearth; his table had a single book open upon it.

"No," he responded as he closed the door and made his way back to the book. Hana scoffed. "You're going to read at this hour in the day?"

"Would you rather us practice in the down poor?"

She ran her fingers through her hair and yawned. "Goodness no." they had not even been given breakfast yet, it really was early.

Her eyes glanced around his room and landed on his perfectly made bed, and without hesitation she unceremoniously walked over and flopped onto it. A nagging voice erupted in her head that she shouldn't have even visited him in the first place, but she shrugged it off. In the end, Hana knew her heart would be broken, and she had come to terms with it. So why not enjoy his company while she could?

"Are you going to sleep?" the prince asked with a hint of humor in his tone.

"You've been working me to the bone Thorin, son of Thrain." She said. "I am definitely going to sleep."

"Alright then," he said with a laugh. "Goodnight Hana."

"Good morning," she corrected, before drifting off not many moments after.

/

They sat like that for at least an hour, Thorin reading at the table while Hana dozed in his bed. The rain seemed to drown out any sound that would disturb them, and Thorin let himself sink into a peace unlike anything he had ever felt before. He found comfort in the fact that she lay resting not far away, warm and safe, and that he could simply be there with her, their presences intertwining flawlessly. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would be content to stay like that until the end of his days.

And when they returned to Erebor, he intended to do just that.

The logical voices had stopped long ago, since the moment she had returned. Thorin was not sure if he had turned them off or if another, bolder voice overran them. One that told him that leaving Hana would be the biggest mistake he would ever make. One that told him that he was in love with her- and he believed it.

A knock came at the door, sufficiently interrupting his thoughts. Upon slipping over and opening it as quietly as he could, he saw a pageboy on the other side.

"Sir, the king wishes to speak with you over breakfast." He said.

"Tell him I will be there in a few minutes." Thorin responded, and when the page boy nodded and loped away, he closed the door and turned to dress.

After he had clothed himself in a semi-presentable outfit, the prince combed out his hair and splashed some water on his face from the basin in the bathing room. When he considered himself half decent, he turned to leave. Looking down one last time at Hana, he smiled and brought the blankets up and over her sleeping form. His once neat bed was now a complete mess, but he did not mind too much.

/

"So have you been friends for some time, you and Hana?" Fengel inquired. He, Thorin, and Undomner sat at the edge of the banquet table. They had already finished their morning meal, and had given in to small talk, which Thorin was not all too patient with- even with his customary diplomacy intact.

"For some time now, yes." He responded.

"A daughter of a nobleman I presume?"

"No," Thorin said, "But she is definitely a better person than any 'high ranking' official I have ever met." By now though, he was ready to get to the point. "What is it you wished to speak with me about?"

The king brought his finger under his chin and his fist into his mouth in a thinking gesture. "We may have found the location of Hana's elf friend." He said, and Undomner pulled a map from his sleeve and spread it out on the table. "Our sources suggest that there is a hide out at the edge of the Fangorn Forest where people, mostly simple travelers, have been disappearing. One of our watchmen has spotted an abnormally large white wolf stalking the plains, much like the one Hana had seen at the settlement. "

Thorin nodded- Hana had already explained to him the fate of her elf friend, and every moment before.

"I have already spoken with Undomner, and we have come to the same conclusion," Fengel said. "Rohan will not participate in the rescue of Immelethrin. It is not worth risking our men, and I am afraid it is all up to you."

"I understand." said Thorin. "You and your men have already done so much for us, I could not ask for any more favors."

"Thank you for your understanding." said Fengel. "Balin and his company should be arriving in the next few weeks you would say?" he asked, and when Thorin nodded in affirmation, "I pray he arrives on time then, lest you travel through winter."

"Indeed."

/

When Hana awoke to rain again the next morning, she was ecstatic that she could enjoy yet another day of rest.

But her peace did not last long, for Thorin swung open her door before she could fall back to sleep. She let out an exasperated groan when she saw him clad in his training clothes.

"Grab your sword and get dressed." He said, walking over to her breakfast plate and picking through her food. After finding none of it worthy to eat, he asked, "Did you not hear me?"

"You can't be serious!" she complained, "It's pouring out there!" she sat up to shoot him a glare.

Thorin shrugged nonchalantly. "So?"

She decided that there was nothing for it. He could argue his way out of a lead box, and she did not have the energy to win this one. Standing up and stretching, she was surprised to look over and find that the dwarf prince was still standing there.

"Could you leave?" she asked, hand on hip.

"I'm not letting you go back to sleep." He said, and Hana could not help but roll her eyes. "I need to get dressed."

At this, the dwarf prince's cheeks turned an interesting shade of red, and he politely excused himself. It was all she could do not to fall over in laughter.

Only a few minutes passed in the rain until Hana was soaked to the bone. Her clothing weighed against her like sheets of ice and her eyes were blurred by the constant spray of water. She was covered in mud from the knees down and could not feel her fingers, but they continued nonetheless for many hours, the sound of their swords clashing mingled with the chattering of teeth. He had beaten her in each duel thus far, but she was getting closer with each swing of her sword.

She nearly panicked however when Thorin suddenly collapsed to his knees mid attack, cursing in apparent pain. Rushing over, she kneeled at his side, eyes raking over him in search of injury. "What happened?"

Hana then felt the flat of his blade brush against her ribs, and as he began to laugh, it took all of her energy not to tackle him into the mud right then and there.

"Never pity your enemy Hana." He said; his grey eyes full of mirth as they met hers. Standing, he took her hand and helped her to her feet. "I say we call it a day," he handed her her sword, and sheathed his own. "You look freezing."

Hana sighed, brushing the mop of wet hair from her face. "You're absolutely impossible- Thorin, son of Thrain." The dwarf prince untied his cloak from around his neck and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was already severely damp and would not help much against the cold, but she still blushed at the gesture.

"I have always been impossible." He said, "How else would you have me?"

"I can think of no better way."

/

A man watched from the shadow of the drapes in the corner of the hall. The two dwarves had made their way upstairs, particularly oblivious to the fact that they were dripping water in every direction and soaking the extremely expensive carpet with mud. They talked of irrelevant things, both smiling and laughing as they neared the prince's quarters. Their hands seemed to brush against each other's far too many times for coincidence.

_Interesting_.

/

Thorin?" Hana question from where she sat poking the fire.

"Hm?" he responded, they had dried off long ago, and were now in a loop of small talk. This time however, he did not mind.

"What will we do when we return to Erebor?" she asked as he took a seat next to her. Thorin pondered the question in his mind. Could her tell her now? Tell her that he wished to court her, to hold her hand, to be there for her through every trial she would ever face, and to be with her far longer than when they returned? Doubt began to grow in his stomach. What if she did not feel the same?

"I suppose things will go back to the way they were." He said, and after a moment of internal battle, he swallowed his pride and continued. "But if it is alright with you, I would hope that we could remain together."

Much to his bewilderment- Hana laughed. "Did you just purpose a courtship with me?"

_No going back now,_ he thought as he looked her dead in the eye, and in all seriousness said, "Yes."

"Oh," she said, all signs of sarcasm leaving her face. The prince's heart beat at a million miles per second. Would she deny him? Was she angry? Mahal, what had he done?

But Hana simply laid her head on his shoulder, and Thorin felt whatever tension that was in him ebb away as her hand found his.

"I accept."

**/**

**OH MY GAWSH GUYS I CANT BELIEVE I JUST WROTE THIS**

**I'm really happy with how this story is turning out. Thorin is finally getting over himself and things look like they may have a happy ending! (Laughs evilly in the corner) Enjoy it while you can folks, things will go wrong soon enough. Thanks for reading and reviewing! 13 reviews isn't that much, but I still feel awesome every time I get a new one **

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	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen: Of Living Nightmares

"Are you ready to depart?" Thrain asked as he and Balin made their way down the large staircase, intricately carved out of black marble and laden with silver stones. The smaller dwarf nodded. "All is well, we leave this morn."

Thrain smiled in spite of himself. "I cannot help but be happy today, my friend," said the almost-king. "Today we bring my son home."

Balin smiled as well, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "I am grateful that he is safe. Thorin has always been much like a son to me."

They passed into the grand hall, which was the major intersection for all of Erebor. Streets and paths crisscrossed, supporting a mass of people who constantly made their way through the city of gold.

When Thrain looked over, he saw that the elder dwarf's mouth was set in a thin line. "You think too much," he said, clapping his hand against the dwarf's forearm. "Do not worry, Balin, we are much more prepared this time- with sixty armed men and a pony for each, as well as one for Thorin and five to carry the gold. I have no doubt that this journey will go smoothly now that those bandits have been taken care of. How long do you estimate between now and your return?"

"I would say three weeks if all runs as smoothly as you say it will," answered Balin. Thrain opened his mouth to reply, but closed it when he noticed that Balin had stopped in his tracks, directly in front of the bridge that led to the mines. "What is it?" he questioned.

The dwarf's face seemed to be laden with anxiety, and Thrain could tell he was nervous, scared even, just by the look in his eyes. It vanished not a moment later. "I have something to do before I leave, sir, a duty to one of our miners."

"What such duty?" Thrain questioned, and the old dwarf sighed in what could have passed for sorrow.

"All of the families have been informed of their loved ones' deaths from Thorin's journey, correct?"

Thrain nodded, he had made it a priority to be honest and sympathetic to his people, often making the trip to console the deceased's family in person.

"Well, there is someone who does not yet know." The old dwarf said quietly. "I wish to speak with him before I leave, before he finds out by any other means, if that is alright."

Thrain nodded. "I understand, go my friend, and give him my grievances."

/

Bofur sat in his harness, working carefully on the rock in front of him. Sweat beaded on his brow as he brought his pick down on the cracked wall; it would give any moment if he hit the right spot- only to reveal what he predicted to be a huge quantity of gold. The other miner's watched him in interest, for they had heard of his skill, and were ready to see first hand. He didn't mind too much, he only wished that Kenaii was here to witness- it was her day off, and he had been missing her company terribly.

He grinned to himself when his instrument caught on the right angle, and he pulled hard. Rocks began to crumble around and fall into the abyss below. He long ago forgot his fear of the dark drop beneath him, but it still gave him shivers when he did not hear the stone hit the ground.

Although it was covered in dust and grime, there was indeed, a large quantity of gold, almost enough to fill a chest. He heard some of the other dwarves hoot in congratulations, and he blushed.

"Bofur!" a voice rang out from above; he recognized it as his supervisor's. "We're going to heft you up- pull when you're ready!"

Tying his mining gear back to his belt, the dwarf tugged the rope, and they began to pull him upwards. No doubt they were going to congratulate him as they always did, and no doubt he would get flustered. He already was upon hearing the hollers from his co-workers.

"What is it sir?" he asked as he reached the top, unhooking the harness and letting fall to his ankles. He kicked it off and turned to his supervisor. The dwarf's name was Nahf. At five feet and three inches he was a huge mass of power and muscle that could scare the daylights out of a cave troll, but once you grew to know him, he seemed to be as harmless as a teddy bear.

Nahf's brown eyes were not the same though- they were laced with something that was unreadable. Bofur began to worry, "Sir?"

The large dwarf didn't say a word, he only pointed to the shaft behind him. Bofur looked over his shoulder and saw in the doorway a familiar elder dwarf. He immediately started towards him, ready to hear whatever good news he could give, for his last few weeks had been hell.

But upon reaching him and seeing the look of emptiness on his face, Bofur's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

"We need to talk."

/

There were some things that Kenaii just knew. She knew when it would rain and she knew when the weather would be fair. She knew when they were on the verge of a major discovery in the mines, and she knew when her boss was about to give her a raise.

So when Bofur was at her door, wringing his worn leather hat in his coal stained hands, his shoulders shaking and his eyes not meeting hers, he did not need to say that something was wrong- she knew.

Not a word passed between them as she gently grabbed his hand and brought him inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. When he still did not look at her directly, she brought her hand to his dirt coated cheek to turn his face towards hers. What she saw in his eyes then shattered her very soul.

"What happened?" she asked, ready to tell someone off or beat them to a pulp, ready to go on a walk or to bandage whatever wound he had, physical or mental. She was ready for anything he needed her to do, because she could _not_ handle seeing him like this.

"Is it Breva?" she questioned, and he shook his head.

"I…" he started, pain and hesitation evident in his voice. She shushed him before he could continue. "You don't need to tell me." Kenaii whispered, wrapping Bofur into a tight embrace, her hand rubbing circles against his back. He hugged her back fiercely, and not many moments passed before she felt his tears begin to soak through the fabric of her dress that rested on her shoulder. She pulled him a little closer as his shaking intensified. "I'm here."

The dam broke, and he fell to his knees, turning into a complete mass of grief and sorrow as his silent tears grew into erratic sobs, and Kenaii fell with him, not once letting go.

/

"Why do you _always_ best me?" Hana questioned as they took a break from sparing. Thorin shrugged in response. "I've been doing this my whole life; you on the other hand just picked up a sword not two weeks ago."

"We've been practicing all day every day!" she said in frustration, taking a draught from her water satchel. "What am I doing wrong?"

Thorin scratched his beard, "Well for one thing, you always leave yourself too open during a fight. Your arms are never in a position to block." He looked up at the sky, thankful for the lack of rain that day, although he had started to feel mid autumn's chill at the edge of his fingertips- he hoped Balin would arrive soon. "Always try to keep one arm close to yourself if you can help it." He said, and when Hana nodded in understanding he continued, "Secondly, you never predict my next move."

Hana scoffed. "How am I supposed to do that? I'm not a mind reader, Thorin son of Thrain."

He laughed at that, for if she was, she would probably hit him much more often. "I'll show you how," he said- grabbing his sword and getting to his feet, Hana following. When they both stood in the circle he said:

"The easiest way to tell where it is your opponent will strike is to look at the movements of other parts of their body, besides the sword arm. If I'm beginning to shift to my left, expect a blow from there; and try to strike me on my open side, if possible." When she nodded, he continued. "Watch their eyes as well. What part of you they choose to look at is a dead giveaway. If possible, try to use these things against them. Look at the spot you _don't_ intend to strike, and then they will block at the wrong angle. Shall we try?"

Hana nodded, readying her sword. Thorin took a breath and advanced. He first struck down hard from the right, which she managed to block in the nick of time. He flicked his sword away and attempted a diagonal swing, but to his surprise she met him head on, their swords clashing before he really even had a chance to strike. She then lunged, catching him off guard. He was barely able to block it before she swung again. Sweat began to bead at their brows as the two sparred furiously, their movements knitting together as if they were locked in an intricate dance.

He rolled out of the way to avoid a surprise blow from above, but before he could stand Thorin heard the clang of metal and felt his sword fly from his hands. He could feel the cold steel of Hana's blade press against his throat not a moment later, and he grinned in satisfaction.

"I would not have taught you that if I knew you'd learn so quickly," he said, and Hana gave him a smile as she let her sword fall from his throat and dropped down next to him. "Beginners luck, I suppose."

They both sat for a moment, a companionable silence taking over as they tried to recover their breath. Finally Thorin said in his ragged voice, running a hand through his long ebony hair; "I am thoroughly surprised." and when Hana raised an eyebrow he continued, "In a good way."

"I have quite the teacher." She responded.

Thorin smiled at that and took her dirty and bruised hand into his, perfectly content to stay that way for the rest of the day if he could. Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts however:

"Thorin..." she started, and the dwarf prince turned at the hint of worry in her tone. Had he done something wrong? Had he hurt her? "What is it?" the words rushed off of his tongue like a waterfall.

She looked up at him; her blue eyes had something in them that was a mix of sorrow and confusion. "Your father and grandfather- they would not approve of this will they? Of us?"

Thorin considered lying to her, he considered saying that he would talk to them and all would be well, or that they would not have any qualms with him marrying a commoner. But the dwarf prince could never bring himself to lie to her, for she seemed to see through every façade he painted on.

"I doubt it."

Hana nodded slowly, as if she expected this answer. "They wouldn't do anything _too _drastic though- right?" she asked, "It's not like you would lose your birth right or become disowned. It's not like they would force you to leave me and marry another?"

He didn't meet her eyes, oh how he wished he could say something on the contrary. "I'm afraid that's exactly what they will do."

Before the last word came out of his mouth her hand recoiled from his as if the very touch had burned her all to the core.

"Hana…"

"This is a bad idea," Hana said, voice rising in speed as her anxiety grew. "I don't want you to lose your throne or your family- I don't want you to lose anything." She looked up at him, a desperate plea in her strikingly blue eyes. "You should not throw away your future- not for me."

Thorin felt a small twang of guilt inside of him. Why did she do this? Did she not know the truth? Had he not explained to her enough how important she was to him? "Don't be ridiculous." He said, taking her hand back into his, this time though- she did not pull away. "Why do you think like this?" he asked, "I am willing to lose the throne, my status and my title, as long as I am with you those things do not matter to me."

She bit her bottom lip and looked away. He put two fingers beneath her chin and turned her head to look at him. "I understand your concern for me, and I appreciate it." He whispered. "But this is my choice to make, and if you'll have me, I'll choose you."

He saw the tension leave her body in waves. She smiled up at him then, relief evident on her freckled face. His heart swelled at the sight- did she really think that he would leave her?

"Shall we continue?" he asked, and Hana nodded.

"Let's go."

/

He dreamed of a wolf that night, a large, white one not unlike what Hana described. It stalked the plains that they were traveling on, nose to the ground and tail straight. Thorin felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He knew- just _knew_ that it was looking for him. He tried to back away as silently as possible, hoping it had not yet sensed him, but the creature turned on him before he could even take a step. Licking its huge, bloodstained teeth, it advanced- a wicked gleam in its black eyes.

Thorin ran then, not daring to look back as he spotted a river and made his way towards it, hoping that the beast would not follow him into the water. It seemed to be on his heels, barking and howling and nipping, tearing at the cloth of his shirt. He finally made it to the river and jumped in without a moment's hesitation. The water engulfed him then, and he began to stroke upwards to break for air, but he found that no matter how hard he pushed himself up, how close to the surface he came, it was just out of reach. He struggled and kicked with all of his might, but in the end, felt his lungs begin to fill with the water that rushed around him.

He let his body go limp with defeat, but upon opening his eyes one last time, he saw Hana, pale as a winter's snow, floating near him on her back, hair splayed in every direction and eyes closed peacefully as if she were asleep. He reached for her, not sure how his body was still moving with the lack of air getting to his brain. His hand wrapped around her wrist and immediately her eyes snapped open, panic and worry lacing them as she tried to breath, only to choke on the water surrounding her. He tried to push her to the surface, hoping that at least _she_ would make it, but found that she soon went completely still, eyes wide and frozen in fear.

He awoke with a start, sitting up and gasping for air and overwhelmingly thankful that it was there. He let his forehead fall into his hands as his chest heaved and his panic ebbed away, but despite how many deep breaths he took he could not help the shakiness that seemed to pull his body in every direction at once.

"Nightmare?"

He looked up to find Hana standing in the doorway, clad in her white nightgown and her hair falling in loose curls around her waist. She closed the door behind her and approached slowly.

"How did you know?" were the only words he could muster, for every nerve he had seemed to be on end from the horror he had felt.

She shrugged, pulling up the blankets so that she could crawl in next to him, a fair distance stood between them, but she closed it by taking his hand into hers. "Just a feeling I suppose. Goodness you're breathing heavy. What was this one about?"

He laid down again, his head hitting the pillow as he turned on his side to face her. How long had it been since they had talked like this? Had a midnight conversation about his latest dream or any other insignificant topic? Far too long, he decided.

He explained his dream in a whisper, although he was not sure why, for no one was around and it was not particularly important. Trying to add in all of the details despite the fear he felt (he would never admit that) he finished off after a few minutes.

"That sounds awful." She whispered back. "I know what it's like to drown, and it's not fun. We died in the end?"

He nodded. "I think so."

Hana turned on her back, looking up at his ceiling. "I had a nightmare like that not too long ago." She said quietly, and he propped himself up on his elbow to listen.

"It was right after we were separated. I was walking through a forest when I saw you sitting there under a tree. I called out to you, and as you turned, a sick, empty blackness began to devour everything around you, the trees, grass, rocks- everything." She sighed quietly. "I held out my hand to help you get away, but you refused me. You said you did not need me, and so I watched as it consumed you as well. And you'll never guess what I did next."

Thorin blinked. "What?"

"Jumped in after you." She said. "I searched for hours and hours with just my hands because I could not see a thing. I called out to you, and heard your voice call back, by the end I could have sworn you were right next to me, but I woke up before we could meet."

He pursed his lips in thought. "Could these dreams… mean something?" he questioned, hoping he didn't sound too ridiculous. To his relief Hana did not even bat an eye at the suspicion.

"I think they could," she said quietly, "They could mean lots of things. Especially if we always end up dying in them." She said the last part with a bit of sarcasm; he could tell she was trying to lighten the mood.

"That won't happen." He said, completely unamused. "I will protect you, or die trying."

"And I'll do the same." She said, squeezing his hand.

**/**

**This is more likely than not my last chapter for this week. I start school again on Monday and the chapters will probably decrease from every few days to once a week. Lots of AP classes my friends. I'm not sure if you could tell, but this entire chapter was a foreshadow for future events. Be prepared for heartbreak, despair, and a sickening amount of fluff! Favorite, follow, and review! I love to hear what you guys have to say. Stay awesome! **

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	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: Saying Goodbye

Rosindium stood on the bridge that crossed the river Greenwood, the reigns of his steed in his hands and a pack of miscellaneous supplies slung over his shoulder. His company stood at the other side, waiting patiently for him to cross and give orders of departure.

The plan was simple. They had learned of a hide out near the brink of Fangorn Forest, one that people had been disappearing near for weeks. No one dared go near the forest which had long been spoken of in ominous whispers; it was not far from Gondor or Rohan, and just near enough to the Greenwood, all of these factors would make it the perfect place for the Black Council to confide. He would take his company there and request parley, if only to make sure that their assumptions were true. If the Black Council indeed resided there, they would lace the area with explosives and send it sky-high- if not, they would return to the Greenwood in a haste to avoid destruction of resources or men.

Despite its simplicity however, Rosindium could not shake the feeling that it would not end well. There were so many things that could go wrong. The rumor could be false and they would find nothing, or it would be true and they'd find something they couldn't handle. Either way- Rosindium had a bad feeling in his gut.

The doors to his city opened and out came who he had been awaiting; his wife- with her beautiful dark skin and long, stark black hair, holding their daughter- who took after him in the ways of looks. The babe was barely a few months old, but he could already see her gaining her mother's spitfire personality. The elf took her into his arms with practiced ease. It was far too soon to say goodbye.

She was asleep, and despite how much he wished to see her shining eyes one last time, the elf didn't have the heart to wake her. Gently he kissed her, and a fierce wave of both pride and love washed over him. He then turned to his wife.

Taurien did not cry. He had never seen her do so nor did he ever expect to. But there was no need for tears to display the anxiety and dread that was etched into her features. _She can sense it too_, he thought. He wished he could take it all away, slay all of her demons and cast them out for an eternity, but his men were waiting, he needed to finish up.

Tauriel still cradled in one arm, he took his wife by the hand and closed the distance between them. Rosindium did not break away from the kiss for quite a few moments- trying to memorize the softness of her lips and the warmth of her palm against his, trying to convey to her everything he felt through this small act. Finally he drew away.

"I love you Ro." She whispered, he smiled and kissed her forehead, his hand tracing the back of her neck. This gesture had always been solely theirs, one he had given her each day that they spent together, each time they said their hello's as well as goodbyes.

"and I love you, Taurien." He said as she took the baby from his arms. He mounted his horse and offered her a smile, and she smiled back weakly. Rosindium crossed the bridge then, wanting nothing more than to look back, but knowing all too well that if he did, all of his courage would dissolve.

And so he pressed on, well aware that he had probably just seen his family for the last time.

/

The darkness came from all corners of the damp room, crushing down on him from every direction. Immelethrin shivered in his bonds, he had been imprisoned in the center of the room, and each arm was chained to a wall. The elf kneeled on jagged stone, and felt blood soak through his trousers each time his knees scraped the sharp rock. His chin was buckled to his chest in exhaustion as he attempted sleep. He had been tied up like this for days, and he was not sure that he could endure much more.

A door opened ahead and in stepped his captor, Dradun, father of Fradun. He was terrified and relieved at the same time, fearful for what he had in store, but grateful that he had not been forgotten and left to rot as he was suspicious would occur.

"Have you had a comfortable last few days?" Dradun asked sarcastically. Immelethrin would have spat back a retort if he had not been gagged.

"I thought about torturing you," said the man, a wicked smirk on his features as he approached. "I considered whipping you until your blood painted the floor, until you were moments from an agonizing death. I probably still will. But I have discovered a different method of receiving my answers from you, one that will render you much more… useful." The man held out a hand to reveal a relatively small glass capsule full of a black liquid, a needle protruded from one end.

Before Immelethrin was even quite sure of what was happening, he felt a sting as the needle sunk into the flesh of his forearm. A stifled breath escaped him in shock, but soon his breathing became low and ragged as a strange numbness began to spread from that area to the rest of him. A warm ache overcame his head, and all things seemed to grow into fog.

His body fell limp in the chains.

"Good, very good." said Dradun, returning the vial to his cloak and bending down to remove Immelethrin's gag. The man bent down so they were eye to eye.

"Now tell me, who killed my son?"

"Rosindium, son of Rosindiel, elf of the Greenwood and advisor to Lord Thranduil."

"Thank you," he said, pulling a ring of keys from his belt and picking through him until he found the right one. He unlocked Immelethrin's chains from his arms and the elf fell limp where he sat.

"Stand." Dradun barked, and he did so without a hint of hesitation. The man smiled, this poison was extremely effective; he would have to remind his spy in Edoras to brew him some more of it.

"Go find this Rosindium." He said, "Sever his head from his body, and bring it to me."

/

Thorin could not help the sick feeling that overcame him when he reached the great hall to see The King ordering people around, men running to and fro carrying gold.

Balin.

"Ah! Prince!" Fengel said as he approached him. "We are readying your pay as the company with the iron should be arriving soon. Would you say four chests of gold to be fair?"

"Is it too late to ask for five?"

The King laughed at this, clapping a hand on his shoulder, the dwarf prince's lips pressed into a thin line. It was worth a try.

"I hope you are finding everything in Edoras to your liking." He said, and Thorin nodded, giving another one of his single syllable answers. He was not in the mood for small talk.

"I should take my leave." He said, making his way through the door. The King responded with, "I shall inform you when the chests are ready and you can come examine them yourself."

He somewhat listened, already halfway outside before the king finished. He did not wish to be rude, but at the moment he did not really care. His mind was being plagued by the thought of seeing his longtime friend in chains for the rest of his life.

/

Balin picked up a small, thin black stone from where he stood at the river bank. He examined it for a moment, admiring how it glittered and the moonlight and the stone's smoothness against the calloused pads of his fingers. Pulling his wrist back and flicking it, he watched as the stone left his hand and skipped across the gentle wake.

He had left the camp for a brief moment to scout the surrounding area. He had learned from his past mistakes- and now a group of men were sent out each time the company stopped. They tried to travel in the most open areas, and their eyes were always in the trees.

Upon returning to the camp he had found that the wagons of iron had been lifted, and the yokes removed from the oxen so that they could graze. Sixty dwarves took up the majority of the area, sixty six ponies had each been strung up somewhere nearby. The sight was both magnificent and terrifying. They could easily pass for a small army- thank goodness Thror had consulted Thranduil beforehand, or the elves would have slit their throats long ago.

Balin tried to avoid thoughts of the king, but they just kept returning when he least expected or desired. Soon enough he would be in prison for his actions, and soon enough the life he had worked so hard to build would be over.

"You don't look too good."

He looked up to see his brother Dwalin. The large dwarf was still much too young to be on a journey such as this, but he had insisted, saying that Balin was, 'Much too old to be on a journey such as this.' And as much as Balin did not wish to admit it, his brother was a much better fighter than himself, and was a great asset on their quest.

The dwarf sat next to him, quietly awaiting an answer from his brother. Finally, Balin spoke. "How well can you keep a secret?"

Dwalin shrugged. "I still haven't told mother about the time you broke her favorite axe, and that was over a fifty years ago."

Balin laughed at this, "Then I guess I shall tell you, but you must not tell a soul. Brother's word." He held out his hand, and Dwalin grasped it. "Brother's word."

He took a moment to gather his wits; it was not easy to find a way to tell your little brother that you were going to prison. "I have done something that Thror will not approve of." He said, and Dwalin nodded, listening.

"In order to get Thorin out of his predicament, I enlisted Rohan's help, but in turn we would only request a third of the payment for the iron."

Dwalin was quiet. "You're right, Thror will definitely not approve."

"I figured that I would be put on trial the moment he found out, and found guilty of treason." Balin shrugged, trying not to express the despair he felt inside. "So I guess I won't be seeing you much after we return."

"But you saved Thorin!" Dwalin said, "He has to give you some credit."

"Perhaps it won't be a lifetime in prison." Balin said, "Perhaps I will not even go to prison, but either way my reputation will be ruined. I will lose my position, my status, and all of the trust that Thror once held for me. You will probably be looked down upon as well, and for that I apologize." He bit his lip. "I did not mean to make such a mess of this."

Not a moment passed before Dwalin was putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to apologize; I know that your heart was in the right place. You were only doing what was best for the kingdom and whether Thror will admit it or not, your actions were right."

"But that doesn't change my future." He said quietly.

"I will stand by you through it." Dwalin said, getting to his feet and stretching. "All will be well, brother. Thrain and Thorin will agree with me, and they will talk to Thror. We still have some hope."

Balin let his eyes fall shut.

_Hope._

/

Hana was confused to say the least when she beat Thorin for the second time that day. The scuffle had been short and quick, and she had disarmed him before he could even properly swing. Usually she would be ecstatic in this event, but she had only beaten him once in the three weeks they had been training- and twice in a row with this much accuracy was entirely unfathomable.

"Something on your mind?" She asked, parrying a side blow. The dwarf prince shook his head, not meeting her eyes. "I'm fine."

She rolled out of the way to avoid a jagged diagonal swing. "Don't lie to me." She said, standing quickly to block a slow strike from the left.

"I'm fine." Thorin hissed, lunging at her, she sidestepped it easily. "Why aren't you fighting back?" he asked accusingly.

Hana sighed, letting the sword fall from her hands and to the gravel below. He stared at her weapon in agitated confusion. "You aren't focused."

"I'm completely focused." He said, eyebrows knitted tight and breathing heavily. He still did not meet her eyes, and Hana resisted the urge to roll hers. He was on edge, she could tell. Their conversations had been growing less frequent over the past couple of days, and when they did speak, it was small talk. He never wished to speak about what was on his mind. She had sat through his brooding session patiently, but now she had had enough.

"Talk to me."

He looked at her for a moment, and then at her sword on the ground. Something crossed his features- worry, concern, anger. Which of these emotions were directed towards her? He opened his mouth to speak, but a voice erupted behind him. The pageboy was making his way over in a hurry.

"The king wishes to see you, sir." He said. "Immediately."

Thorin nodded, sheathing his sword and moving to retrieve his items from where they had left them underneath a nearby tree. He looked over at her one last time, and she searched his eyes. They were both cold and concerned, calculating, and confused. She resisted the urge to shout. 'Just tell me!'

"Don't wait up for me," he said, turning to go, and Hana felt a strange emptiness swallow her as she watched someone she cared so much about walk away with so little hesitation.

/

"This is what we will be paying you." said Fengel, gesturing towards the four chests of gold that lie open to his eyes beside the king's throne in the grand hall. "Is it satisfactory?

Thorin's eyes scanned his profit, he momentarily considered finding Hana and bringing her to examine the gold, as was her original duty on this expedition, but in the end he decided against it. The quantity of gold was not incredibly large, so he saw no reason for Fengel to lie of its validity. Plus, she had been asking him nonstop about what he was thinking, what was wrong, etc. And as much as he loved her, now was not a time that he wished to discuss what was wrong. For what was truly upsetting him was the one thing he had no say in, and that was the outcome of Balin's future. Mahal how it hurt him to think that it would not be three months before he saw his friend life in shambles, his only crime being in saving the dwarf prince who could not save himself.

He sifted his hands through the gold, but did not let his eyes linger on it long. For when they did he felt a strange urge to take it all and hide it away for himself, and\ urge to find more and not let a single living soul touch it, and he had promised himself that he would never give in to those urges.

"It's fine." Thorin said.

"Do you wish to keep it in your chambers?" Fengel questioned from beside him.

The dwarf prince shivered involuntarily. "No- just put it away somewhere safe for now please." He said and the King nodded, calling over men to heft the chests and take them away for the time being.

He did not return to the training grounds, but instead retired to his quarters, despite the fact that it was still midday. Thorin flung his sword and his bag in the corner of the room and sat down at his table, rubbing his temples.

He needed to think.

/

Hana paced her room, wondering if it would be a proper time to consult him yet.

She knew, just knew that something was on his mind, that there was something that he was not telling her. She had let him have his space for days now, but enough was enough. He didn't seem to be letting up on the mood fest anytime soon. Thorin was going to talk to her whether he wanted to or not.

/

A knock sounded on his door and he cringed, already having an idea of who it was. Thorin considered ignoring it, hoping it would go away, but he decided against it. Hana was obviously not going to leave him alone- and she only wanted the best for him. He might as well speak with her.

He opened the door and she strode in, dirt still on her face from that days training and her hair falling out of her loose braid. She paused and turned as he shut the door. They stayed like that for a few moments, simply looking at each other, until finally she spoke.

"Please, Thorin, just tell me." She pleaded. "Let me help you."

He took a harsh breath, and then began to explain. He told her of Balin and his predicament, of what was running through his mind, and the despair that he felt for his friend. He did not tell her how desperate he felt though- for she did not need to see his weaknesses in those moments.

"He didn't do anything wrong though." Hana said. "Thror should be grateful that you're alive!"

Thorin shrugged. "He has more than one son, Frerin could have easily taken my place and he could have still received the gold he desired."

She glared at him. "That's not funny."

He glared back. "I'm not trying to be." Why did she question everything he said?

"I suppose… I suppose you'll be talking to Thror the moment you return, consulting him and trying to keep his temper down?" she questioned.

Thorin nodded stiffly, "I suppose."

"Then we must make haste in our return, not stop until we reach Erebor."

"Yes."

She paused for a moment. "I only wish that we could find Immelethrin and free him. I hate to think that he is suffering on his own." When Thorin was quiet, she continued. "It's not like we can do anything though, it's not like we know where he is…"

She looked up at him when he did not respond. Thorin bit his lip, trying to betray no emotion. Her eyes widened in realization. "You do know where he is?"

He nodded, why couldn't he lie to her? Why could he not simply push her away? Anger began to burn at the surface of her features; Thorin mentally cringed- Now he was in for it.

"How long… Have you known?" she asked slowly, her voice dangerously low.

"Undomner showed me a map last week. They think he is imprisoned in the Fangorn Forest." There was no point in lying now- she would know either way, and he would not be doing himself any favors.

"Why haven't you told me?" she asked incredulously, her voice rising "We could have gone out and saved him by now! He could be dead because of how long we waited!"

Thorin's voice rose as well, "How on earth would we do that? It's not like I have an army at my fingertips!"

Hana shook her head in disbelief, her tone laden in annoyance. "Well it doesn't matter now I suppose. But we need to go get him as soon as possible."

"No." He said, surprised at the harshness in his voice.

She glared at him in a mixture of disbelief and anger. "Excuse me? What do you mean no?"

"I do not wish to risk the lives of my men for the sake of one elf. I have seen far too many dwarves die already, I shan't see another if I can help it, and I can."

"What about Immelethrin?" She questioned. "We can't just leave him to rot! He saved me! We owe him!"

"You," he growled. "You owe him. I do not. He is not one of our own; I have no debt to pay to an elf."

"I cannot let you do this!" her voice was in a shout now, her features practically boiling in rage. "I will not allow you to leave him to die!"

He snapped, this time his voice rose into a thunderous tone. "And why on earth would I take orders from you? You're a half blood!"

He regretted the words before they even left his lips. Their storm of an argument suddenly dropped into complete silence. He searched her eyes, but found them to be full of something that he could not read; an emotion that could have passed for apathy- but he knew better. She always looked like that when on the brink. He swallowed hard upon remembering the cruelty of his words. Had he really just said those things to her?

"Hana-"

_Slap._

Thorin stepped back, his hand clutching his face as if he had been burned with a branding iron. It did not hurt physically- no, but what hurt him was the fact that he had _deserved _it, deserved to have her hit him, to treat him with loathing, to look at him as if he had torn her world down and laughed as she was buried by the rubble.

Hana's eyes were full of tears when he looked at her. But they were not the miserable, weak tears- no she stood proud and strong, red in the face and chest puffed out. Those were tears of anger.

"How dare you." Her voice shook when she said this, and he winced.

"How dare you make me think that you care and then treat me like filth?!" she questioned. "How dare you let me believe for even a moment that I was in love with you?"

Each and every word hit him like a wall of rock, leaving his head spinning and his body aching. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and to apologize, to convince her that he had not meant a word of what he said and that he had just spoken in the heat of the moment, and it would be easy to tell her those things- for they were not lies. But as he reached for her hand she stepped away, looking at him in a way that made his heart sting with guilt.

"I will never let you touch me again." She growled.

They stood like that, Hana glaring at him and Thorin silently pleading with her. Pleading for what? He wondered. Forgiveness? Compassion? He was far beyond deserving any of those things.

Not another word passed and she strode to the door, wrenching it open and walking through, only to slam it behind her.

Thorin's bottom lip was now bleeding from how hard he was biting it.

/

Thunder clapped overhead as Hana dressed, pulling her cloak over her shoulders and lacing up her boots, it was raining extremely heavily and lightning seemed to strike every other minute, but she didn't care. She grabbed her sword from center of her table and tied the belt around her waist. She then wrapped all of the food that was placed on her table for dinner that night and stuffed it in her bag. She tied Immelethrin's cross bow and sword to her back, and left the room.

When she reached the stables it took quite a while for her to find a pony, for few were ever kept there save to carry supplies. When she did she took a nearby saddle and draped it over the steed's back. Her fingers fumbled with the buckle as the rain and chill around her started to penetrate her many layers of clothing. She cursed in frustration when the saddle started to slip off of the side of the pony as it began to be disgruntled by the lightning. However a pair of strong hands pushed the saddle back on before it could fall to the hay covered floor, causing her to jump.

"Not sure what you're doing out here." A voice said, and she turned to see Raolace, captain of the Rohirim.

Hana grunted. "Leaving."

The man nudged her out of the way and began to tie the saddle himself, pulling the ropes until they were secure. He then moved to retrieve a bridle and looped it into the pony's mouth.

"Why are you helping me steal one of your own horses?" she questioned, looking up at this strange man. He smiled down at her with his brown eyes.

"You have something you must do, and so you must do it." He helped her onto the horse. "Besides, we don't use him much anyways."

She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was serious. But there was no hint of sarcasm or trickery in his eyes.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure. Will you not be taking Thorin as well?"

"No." she said quickly, trying and failing to not sound defensive, Raolace stare at her for a moment before saying slowly, "He really, really does love you, Hana. You should have seen him when you two were separated."

Hana grunted, words would not change her mind now.

Raolace hummed in disappointment, "Wish you a safe journey then. What should I tell him?"

"I'm going to save my friend." She said simply. "I'll come back if I can."

With that, she rode off into the storm.

/

Undomner smiled from where he stood facing the window.

He had heard the conversation between Hana and Thorin, and he was pleased that it grew to be that drastic. There was a reason that she was not invited to breakfast that day.

The bald man watched as a small figure with long blonde hair rode a pony through the gates of the city and out into the open, the rain and cold would probably kill her before she even reached Fangorn Forest-and if she did make it, then Dradun would easily take care of her.

This was going to be a lot easier than he previously thought.

/

A heavy knock woke Thorin- although he wasn't sure if he would call it that. More of ram beating against the door frame.

_Please be Hana_ he thought as he approached the door, he was ready to apologize. He_ needed_ to apologize. He would never forgive if she hated him in the end.

He opened the door and was disappointed to see Raolace there, clad in his watchman's outfit. But disappointment soon rose to suspicion, and then worry.

"Where is she?"

/

**So remember how I said chapter fourteen was the last chapter for this week? And now here I am typing up a 4,600 word one, only two days later. I just got an idea that I had to write about, that and I'm getting really excited for where this is going. Be prepared for a lot of plot twists, Undomner being a bad guy is the least of them.**

**Read and Review, I seriously love to hear your guy's input! You're awesome for reading this far!**

**-Infinityscripts**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen: A Different Kind of Betrayal

This was a _very_ bad idea.

Hana leaned heavily against the thick neck of her pony, burying her face in to his straw smelling fur in an attempt to block out reality. It had been two days since she left and the meager food she brought was running scarce. What started out as a wild gallop to anywhere when they had first departed had disintegrated to the equivalent of a crawl. The rain was now snow, littering everything; the ground, the rocks, her ponies mane, and her eyelashes. At first she was delighted at the sight; for she found the powder to be incredibly beautiful in its own simple way. She loved the way it crunched beneath them and how the tiny flakes rested in the pony's fur, only to melt after she brushed a hand through it.

But as it continued to fall, Hana began to come to the realization of just what the snow meant for her. It meant that the air would drop to staggeringly chilled temperatures, and that every breath she took would feel like swallowing ice water. It meant that her lips would chap over and that her already damp hair would freeze. It meant that there would be no warm place for her to sleep at night and little chances of a fire. It meant that she was probably going to freeze to death before she finished her quest.

The dwarf pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders as she began to lose feeling in her fingers, but when she felt the warm, thick fur that lined the inside brush against her cheek, she realized that it was not her cloak at all, but Thorin's. The one he had given to her in the rain all those days ago.

_Thorin._

She wasn't angry with him anymore, although she really tried to be, she really _really _tried to be. But when his grey eyes had met hers, silently filling with despair and pleading, she nearly melted into a puddle where she stood.

Mahal curse her for loving him so much.

The pony whinnied beneath her as it struggled to push through the knee deep snow. Hana dug around in her pack- only to grab the last item of food that she had, an apple. She begrudgingly gave it to the pony, patting the side of its neck in the hopes of comforting the poor beast.

The snow was beginning to fall in heavier and heavier waves, almost to the point where she was choking on it. The wind soon whistled and stung as if it were a barbed whip against her numbed cheeks. Hana's heart fell. This was a blizzard.

/

"What do you mean he's _gone?!"_ Balin, son of Fundin hissed through clenched teeth, attempting to keep his voice down despite the reeling of his heart. How could their luck have turned this awry again?

Fengel shrugged, obviously a little nervous around the disgruntled dwarf. "The female dwarf- Hana disappeared not three nights ago. Thorin mounted one of our ponies the next morning despite all of our protests." The king stood; hands up in an apologetic fashion. "He left on his own free will, saying that he would return before a fortnight had passed."

Balin sighed, letting his forehead fall into his palm in defeat. "Splendid."

"Perhaps I can go after him?" Dwalin questioned as he came to stand beside his brother, axe in hand.

"No, no." The elder dwarf said with a sigh. "Thorin is strong, we know that. We will give him a fortnight. There is no point in wasting our men in that storm yet. "

Fengel nodded. "I apologize that these matters have occurred- I'm sure that they worry you."

"Yes," Balin agreed- although he was not very worried about where Thorin went or whether or not his kin was safe- the question that plagued his mind in those moments was _why_.

/

Scenes replayed in Thorin's mind repeatedly. Ones of her smile and of her laugh, their late night conversations and her scarred, small hand in his.

His lips were dried and bloodied, the skin almost completely peeled off due to his bad habit of chewing on them when in distress. The snow had begun to pile up- making his journey north much more slow and strenuous then he'd prefer. But he would not let that be an obstacle.

He pushed his pony further despite its protests; he would find her or die trying.

/

The blonde dwarf's head shot up. Her pony's steady footsteps seemed to have an echo; a distant- near silent rhythm that she would have missed if all of her nerves had not been so tense. Her eyes traveled to the white expanse in front of her. A figure stood in the distance, tall and lonesome in the snow. The sleet and wind that blew rapidly in every direction distorted her vision, making him into something of a blur, but his presence was unmistakable.

She drew her sword, keeping her steed moving forward steadily, for whoever it was could surely see her, and if he meant her harm- she intended to face him. She was not as defenseless as she once was.

But as they drew near and she got a better view, Hana's sword slipped out of her hand in utter shock.

Before her stood an elf- lithe and muscled with chestnut skin and long onyx hair. He was littered with a variety of bruises and cuts, but altogether alright. In his left hand and was a dagger and his right a bow.

"Immelethrin!" she called, heart racing. Kicking the pony's sides, she pushed her steed into a gallop towards him, her lips turned upward in eminent happiness and relief.

That was when everything went horribly wrong.

Immelethrin strung an arrow and lifted his bow. At first she turned to look behind, wondering if there was some sort of unseen enemy in her midst. But then a sickening thud filled the air as she felt the pony beneath her go stiff, and then collapse into the snow covered plain.

Barely managing to dismount in time, Hana tumbled head first into the snow. She staggered to her knees as quickly as she could, confusion and cold overcoming all of her senses. Before she could stand however a force like that of a brick wall hit her- making her fly back into the snow.

Wind pulled and tousled Immelethrin's hair as he towered above her, not a hint of empathy or recognition in his eyes; in fact, they were entirely blank, as if he were staring at a white wall.

"Immelethrin!" she spluttered in shock, trying to reach the elf. "What's wrong with you?!"

Hana attempted to sit up, but his foot crashed into her chest. The kick sent her lying on her back- gasping in pain as she tried to regain her breath. When her eyes finally opened, she felt a strong pressure against the base of her throat, cutting off all air from her windpipe.

She kicked and struggled, her hand coming up to push the elf off, but that only made him lean into her.

"Immelethrin," she rasped as tears of pain and fear prickled into her eyes, trying and failing to move him from her throat. "Immelethrin it's me!"

His eyes simply looked back at her, completely blank.

"I do not know you."

The pressure intensified, and dark blue spotted her vision. Panic began to settle in- she did not want to die, not again- not like this.

_Thorin_

All went black.

/

As the wind began to intensify and the hail and snow blew harder than he thought ever possible, Thorin considered finding a quiet nearby cave and resting for the night. He had seen a few on his way; he contemplated whether it was worth it to turn back a few miles now. Hana was only a few hours ahead of him, after all.

But something inside of him, something he would compare to a sixth sense, told him to continue on his way. At first the dwarf prince ignored it, just saying that it was his ambition getting ahead of him and that if he didn't stop for the night, the blizzard would surely kill him. But the nagging voice didn't go away; it only grew stronger, more stubborn; constantly ringing in his ears until everything inside of him knew that he needed to push on.

And so he did.

Dark had fallen soon after, but he did not stop. He wanted to, and he was sure his pony did too, but he could not shake this feeling. The steed huffed beneath him and he brushed his fingers through its mane, softly cooing to it.

Finally, he saw it.

A large mound in the snow, one that he would normally pass around without a second thought, in surety that it was a boulder of some sort. But as he drew near he saw that the mound was stained red. Thorin knew that stain- he knew the sight of blood.

He jumped off of his horse, running to the mysterious shape. All the while praying that it was not her, that it was anyone or anything but her.

He skidded to his knees in front of it, his hand automatically digging through the chilled white powder. He was oblivious to the howling wind or the stinging of his bare hands against the half frozen snow, he only continued to dig.

His fingers brushed against something soft, and as he pushed more and more of the snow away, he found that he had dug up a pony. The beast was long dead, an arrow protruding from his chest.

He stood up; eyeing the area for anymore strange shapes, for not a soul in their right mind would ride a pony into this blizzard- it had to be her.

Thorin felt his foot hit something, hard and metal; he reached to the ground and uncovered a sword. The blade was a basic medium sized one, with a red leather handle.

_Mahal no…_

"Hana!" he called, fear and desperation finally overcoming him. "Hana please…" Please what? Don't be dead? Come back to the bastard who doesn't deserve to be in your presence? Thorin fell to his knees. "You promised…" he whispered; fists clenching until little red half-moons were impressed in his palms. "You promised me that you would never leave, not again!"

Something shifted in the distance, his head shot up. The snow had moved, ever so slightly, but it moved. He practically fell on his face as he staggered towards it, his legs pushing through the snow despite how they seemed to feel frozen solid.

Finally he reached it, and began to sift through the snow as fast as he could, heaving as much away from the area as possible. After a few moments, he began to see blonde hair, and then a dark blue tunic, and pale freckled skin.

Hana lay with her knees curled to her chest and her head tucked in. He immediately pulled her up and into his lap, his left arm cradling her head. Heavy dark bruises lined her neck, her lips were blue and her eyes closed, he felt her cheek- she was as cold as ice.

"Don't do this to me." He said, brushing a piece of hair from her face. "Please Hana… I'm so, so sorry." He began to babble, but he didn't care. "None of this should have happened. I should have protected you and kept you at my side. I should have treated you with respect. I should have told you that I loved you…" His voice cracked then … could she actually be dead? "I really do Hana, I really do."

He pulled her close and buried his face into her hair. "I'll do everything- I'll be everything. Anything, just please, don't do this. Don't leave me alone..."

"You really are an idiot, Thorin, son of Thrain."

He pulled back, very slowly. Was he hearing things? But as his eyes rested on her face, he saw familiar, dark blue ones staring straight back at him, she was smiling.

"You're alive?" he questioned, his heart going at a million miles a second as joy surged through every vein in his body.

She reached up to brush away the snow that was tangled in his hair, "That was quite the touching speech," she said with a dry grin. Thorin laughed, not being able to help the smile that broke across his face as relief washed over him.

"I love you as well." Her voice was quieter this time, more somber, but it was still hers, and that's all he needed.

"Thank Mahal," he said softly, pulling her close into a hug, hoping that his heat would stop her shivers. "I'm sorry Hana, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." She interrupted, her hands coming around his waist to hold him, he could feel the smile against his neck. "I shouldn't have expected so much of you."

"Can you forgive me?" he murmured into her shoulder.

He could almost sense her roll her eyes. "Obviously."

Thorin pulled back, examining her chapped, bloodied lips and frostbitten face, as well as the thick bruise against her neck. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lips were quivering from the shivers that racked her body.

"What happened?" he asked as he got to his feet. She tried to get up beside him but he wouldn't have it, and soon she was cradled in his arms as they made their way to his pony.

"I found Immelethrin." She said softly. Thorin nodded, waiting for her to continue. "I called out to him, so happy to see him alive, but something had changed. It was as if he had lost all memory of me, of emotions, everything. He shot down my horse, and then asphyxiated me." Her hand rubbed her neck tenderly, Thorin visibly winced, he would hang the elf from a pillar as soon as he got the chance.

He grabbed her sword from the ground and stood her up to belt it around her waist. "You don't have to carry me you know," she said. "I can walk perfectly fine on my own."

He brought one arm under her knees and one against her back as he hefted her up, holding her close to his chest. He felt her head rest in the crook of his neck as her other arm held onto his shoulder.

"I know." He said softly as he mounted the pony and began to steer it south. The wind still whistled in his ears and the snow stung his face- but he cared not, he needed to get her somewhere warm and dry for the night.

And so he set off the pony in a gallop. The steed was strong and sturdy, much more so than the rest, but even it had its limits after a two day journey and a few feet of snow. It got them to the cave regardless, and Thorin petted its nose in gratitude. They would sleep in tomorrow.

"Did you bring a bedroll?" he questioned and she nodded, taking off her pack and bringing her shaking fingers to unhook the latch. He swatted her hand away and unhooked it himself. A few minutes passed before they had a sleeping area set up, with all of the blankets they had brought, and then the cloaks thrown over it as well.

They settled beneath the many blankets, not caring that their backs were against jagged uncomfortable rocks. He simply pulled her as close to him as he could, bringing her cold hands to rest between them as her head settled on his forearm.

"Thorin?" she whispered softly, her shaking had finally stopped as she began to warm up against him.

"Hm?"

"I don't want to fight anymore, with you I mean."

"Seeing as most of our arguments tend to result with us being in life threatening situations, I must agree."

They shared a laugh, and he leaned his chin against her forehead.

"I'm worried about Immelethrin." She admitted. Thorin frowned, why on earth would she be? He had tried to kill her!

"Something was wrong with him," Hana whispered. "It was almost as if… as if he didn't even see me."

"Go to sleep." He hummed into her hair. "We mustn't worry over what we cannot change."

A moment passed before their silence was broke.

"Do you really love me?" she questioned, sitting up to meet his eyes. "You said you loved me, you know… when you thought I was…"

"Like I said," his responded, "We mustn't worry over what we cannot change, and _that_ Hana, will not change."

Her smile then could have melted the heart of the harshest frost giant in Middle Earth. She settled back onto his arm, and they fell asleep like that, perfectly content in each other's warmth.

/

**That was probably the fluffiest crap I have ever written in my entire life, I feel no shame. **

**I love the comments you guys leave me, they really help keep me writing despite my business. I will bust out a new chapter ASAP. Anything you want to see happen soon? Let me know- I'll right it. A few have mentioned a .. ahem.. kiss…. patience grasshoppers, it will come! ;) (quite sooner than you think) Thanks for reading and reviewing! **

**-Infinityscripts**

**I claim no rights to any of the places, people, or plot owned or created by Tolkien or Peter Jackson. There may come a day when I have the same amazing skills as them, BUT IT IS NOT THIS DAY! **

**Original text**

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	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen: Who's Afraid of the Dark

Immelethrin's eyes scanned the area. Snow was falling, and unlike his other elvish kin, he was having a hard time remaining light on his feet, as the desert elf was not accustomed to this weather in the slightest. To his left were the plains of Rohan that he had just trekked- and to his right, the small group of Greenwood Elves struggling through the snow, still unaware of his presence. His eyes narrowed as they assessed all that were in the camp, he could not help but grin as they fell on a certain red head.

Wind blew through his hair as he slowly melted back into the blizzard, the cold wasn't affecting him, nothing was affecting him. The world was numb to his touch. Immelethrin sheathed the sword he had taken from the dwarf girl, he had recognized it as his, and took the crossbow as well. He pulled back just to where the wind and snow drew a veil between him and the elfish company. He would attack when the time was right.

/

Dwalin could not help but stare unabashedly at the couple approaching the gate to Edoras. From where he stood next to the guard, he could see Thorin- the dwarf prince's black hair and cloak clear as day against the white snow, and in front of him on the pony was someone he had never seen before. A simple blonde dwarf girl with –he shook his head in confusion-no beard.

"Dwalin, my friend." greeted Thorin as they reached the gates. The prince dismounted the pony and then helped the strange girl off as well. "Balin is here I presume?"

The larger dwarf nodded, eyes carefully following the two as they began to make their way to the King's hall, all the while he walked closely beside.

"The trade is ready to commence?"

"I'd say so," he agreed as he ran his fingers through his mohawk, still not able to take his eyes from the two. Thorin had never looked at _anyone_ the way he looked at her. As if sensing his thoughts the dwarf prince turned, and at his questioning gaze Dwalin shrugged, looking away. Something was definitely going on.

"Hana!" a shout arose, and three heads turned to see Balin, the old dwarf holding up his thick winter robes as he bumbled towards them. "You're alive!" he questioned when he had reached them, breathing heavily and cheeks red from effort.

The blonde nodded, smiling. "I suppose so."

"What a weight off my chest!" Balin exclaimed, by now they had reached the stone staircase. Quietly they ascended, all the while Dwalin trying to catch his brother's eye to silently ask _Who's this?_ When they reached the kings hall, the guards pushed open the twin doors to allow the dwarves passage, and Dwalin was grateful for the immediate rush of warmth (as there were several fires burning in the room). For even despite his largeness and thick furs, it was still rather freezing outside.

"Welcome!" Fengel said as he approached them. Guards closely followed the young man but he shooed them away with the wave of a hand. "I am glad to see you all here in one piece and back to safety."

Thorin nodded in greeting. "I'm glad to be back." He then rubbed his throat tentatively. "Could we get some water? We ran out long ago."

The king turned to a small, bald man who stood next to him. Dwalin had deduced him to be the king's advisor, by the fact that he followed him around like a puppy and was never once dejected. He didn't like people like that- people who thrived on attention. "Undomner, get them each a pint from the well." The King ordered, and the little man scurried away, large grin on his face. He came back with full grog in each hand, which they took and drank with little hidden delight.

"Shall we commence with the trade?"

He saw Thorin and Balin share a glance from where he stood behind them. "If it is alright, King Fengel," Thorin said slowly, and as Undomner tried to not look annoyed that he had been ignored, Dwalin almost laughed. "I would like to wash and rest a bit first, that journey was quite intense."

"Of course," the king said. "It's still mid-morning; shall we discuss it over dinner perhaps?"

The dwarf prince and broke a smile at the thought of food, "Dinner sounds good." He paused for a moment, looking at Hana. Slowly he took her hand into his, and Dwalin almost said something, but he held back. "She needs to see a healer." Thorin said, "Although she refuses to admit it, Hana has some terrible frostbite."

The king nodded, looking genuinely concerned. _He's alright, _Dwalin decided. Fengel turned to Undomner, "Would you take Hana to Madame Cadby?"

The little bald man nodded, extending an elbow to Hana in escort, "Right this way."

As Hana took his elbow, Dwalin spoke up: "I will go as well." He said, not altogether sure why he did, but something told him to not trust this man, that he was far too willing and kind to be real. The fact that Undomners's face fell for a moment confirmed that fact. He looked at Thorin, who gave a slight nod. _He senses it too. _He thought.

They walked in silence, Dwalin following close behind to watch the two. He could not help but notice as Hana slowly moved away from the man, removing her arm from his and moving back until she stood next to him. Not a word had passed between them since she arrived, but Dwalin did not care. Thorin had been his friend for a long, long time, and just by how the dwarf prince had looked at her he knew that he wanted her to be protected.

"Here we are," Undomner said as they reached a dead end in a hall. He slid open a wooden door and ushered them in. Only when all three of them had entered did Dwalin realize that it was a trap.

The room turned pitch black as the door was shut and locked. Acting on instinct he seized Hana by the arm and pulled her behind him. The dwarf drew his axe, ready to fight at any moment.

"What's going on?" he questioned, feeling beads of sweat roll down his forehead as his eyes adjusted. Despite the lack of light he could see a clear outline of the man in front of him. If Undomner had thought that leaving them in the dark would be a disadvantage, he was mistaken.

"It's nice to see you back Hana, it really is." The man said in his sing song voice, although now it had a sinister tinge to it. He heard the sound of a blade being pulled from its sheath and tensed. "Now it's time to say goodbye."

He may have been shorter than the man, but he was definitely stronger. Dwalin heaved all of his weight in Undomners's direction, sending him flying into the wooden door behind. The man heaved a gasp as the wind was knocked out of him. Dwalin swung his axe down so it stood just barely in front of the man's neck- another inch would have rendered him headless.

"You will unlock the door." said Dwalin, "And then you will let us go."

He could not explain what happened next, even if it hadn't been in the dark. Suddenly, the axe had been wrenched from his grasp and thrown across the room, and he felt his body shoved up against the wall by an invisible force. He cried out as he bit his tongue, the metallic taste of blood overflowing in his mouth.

"Why on earth would I do that?" he could feel the heat of the man's breath against his face, and almost gagged at the smell. A hand came out and clenched itself around his throat. Dwalin struggled where he was held, but despite his strength he could not move. He internally cursed as his body began to convulse from a lack of air. Voices, dark sinister voices erupted in his ears and caused the room to tremble. His vision was just about completely dark when he heard a sickening _slash._

He tumbled to the ground, heaving for breath. A hand found his shoulder as Hana kneeled next to him. "What happened?" he rasped, looking over and eyes widening as he saw Undomner lying decapitated on the floor, his bloody axe resting beside. He looked up at her.

"You _killed_ him?"

She nodded. "He was choking you- and trust me, dying from lack of air is _very_ unpleasant."

/

"We can't just go through with this!" Thorin exclaimed, eyeing Balin in frustration as he paced his dormitory.

"What do you suppose we do?" the older dwarf asked. "Tell the king to give us more money?"

Thorin buried his head in his hands, sitting at the table. "I cannot let you go to prison." He said. "Not after all you have done for me."

Balin sighed, sliding into the chair next to him. "All will be well, Thorin." He said, his face smiling but his eyes sad. "We will talk to Thror, I'm sure that things will work out."

Thorin shook his head, and Balin pursed his lip, wondering if the subject he was about to bring up was a good one. Finally he said, "What happened… between you and Hana?" Thorin looked up at him something unreadable in his eyes, and so he pressed forward. "You two seem to have overcome all of your differences in my absence. Judging by how you look at her I would even say-"

"Stop," Thorin said with a sigh. "It's just- she's… we're…"

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. "We'll continue this later" said Balin, as he stood to answer the door, all the while trying to disregard the unease that was in his heart, for if his presumptions were right, then Thorin was in for a very painful journey indeed. He took the handle and pulled the door open. A guard stood there, and he could tell by the look on his face that it wasn't good.

/

Hana sighed as Madam Cadby worried over her fingers, bustling to and fro to get warm water and bandages.

"Lucky for you its minor." said the large woman, setting a bowl at the bedside table and instructing her to put her hands in it. Hana shivered as it was almost too hot to be comfortable, but nevertheless the warmth began to return. "Next time though, please do wear gloves. They can save you a world's worth of pain."

Hana nodded, and Madame Cadby set the bandages at the foot of her bed. "Let them rest for about an hour, and call me when it gets cold. I have some other patients now, if you don't mind."

She hurried away and Hana closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the headboard. She was tired, dirty, and more than ready for a wash and a nap. Being the target of several assassination attempts really did take its toll.

_Besides,_ she thought to herself, _my frostbite isn't that bad._ It really wasn't- the tips of her fingers were bright red with a slight, very slight tinge of grey. It had been a mistake to express that to Thorin, for he proceeded to worry over her unceasingly the entire way home. Hana didn't mind too much, he was adorable when he was worried.

"You awake?"

Hana cracked an eye open and almost laughed. "Speak of the devil."

Thorin looked at her questioningly. "You were speaking to someone?"

This time, she did laugh. He approached, placing a hand on her cheek and leaning down to kiss her forehead. She smiled at the softness of his lips and the tickle of his beard against her skin.

"Dwalin told me." He said slowly, as he pulled back, face fallen.

"You probably shouldn't leave me unsupervised anymore." She said, trying to lighten the mood- she hated to see any sadness in his eyes. "It's ended badly every time thus far."

To her relief, Thorin did laugh, and she relaxed. He had been so tense in the past few weeks; it brought her unspeakable happiness to see him smile again.

"It's good to know that you can fend for yourself now." He said, sitting down on her bed. "Dwalin seemed fairly frightened by what had happened."

Hana drew a breath, the voices and the shaking of the walls, the coldness in the air, which was something she had never experienced before, nor wished to again. "He's some sort of dark magician." She said.

"Was," Thorin corrected.

"Was." She agreed. "How's Balin? Do you have a plan?"

His eyes fell to the floor then, and Hana would have reached out to take his hand if hers had not been submerged in water.

"I think…" he started, and then cleared his throat, "I think that things will be alright in the end."

Hana was silent, not looking away until his eyes met hers. She held their gaze perfectly. "They will."

"Yes," he said, drawing aimless patterns on her knee. "Were you going to sleep?" he questioned, but Hana shook her head. "I'm not tired. Please stay, if you'd like."

Thorin smiled, just a bit, but it was still there. "Alright."

/

Balin stared through the cracked door of the medical dormitory.

This was not good.

Sure, they hadn't done anything too drastic yet, but he had seen Thorin hold her hand earlier in the king's hall, in the view of everyone. Had he purposed a courtship? Balin hoped not. He really hoped not.

But then again, he had never seen Thorin act this way with anyone. Hana had been the first in a long line of pursuers that he actually connected with. He pinched the bridge of his nose, they had spent every waking moment of the past four months together, and if she was not sick of him by then, she never would be.

The wagons had been unloaded into Rohan's royal treasury, and the gold was tucked away, ready to be loaded onto the ponies. Sixty disgruntled dwarves slept in a large hall next to that of the main one, and he felt as if they would soon be exhausting their welcome, as well as the food supply. They would need to leave, hopefully by the next day.

He turned and made his way up a staircase and down a painting decorated hall, a lump settling in his throat, his numbered days were flying by.

He turned the key in his door and pushed, only to almost fall back in utter shock of what was in front of him.

There- standing in his quarters, was a woman; far taller and leaner than him, with long silvery white hair and a flowing green dress. She stood in front of his table, and when she stepped out of the way, he saw that placed there were six large chests, all full of gold. His eyes darted from the gold to the woman, confusion, fear, and hope surging through all that was in him.

"I believe you are in a predicament?" she questioned, and Balin nodded slowly, mouth still open in awe.

A smirk spread across her face. "Allow me to assist."

**/**

**Hello yall! **

**I'm sorry about the wait and shortness of that chapter, I had some intense writers block for this one, luckily my story line is pretty planed out from here.**

**I would like to personally express my appreciation to everyone who has favorited or followed. As well as my gratitude towards Velaena Velaryon, for commenting on everything that I write and always making me want to write more! also, dearreader for actually giving me input and critique on my writing, and putting my mind at ease as to what I have done (and plan to do) with these characters I'm A Fluffy Panda is also amazing, and I really appreciated that big fat paragraph I'm glad all of you enjoy this story! To the rest of my fantastic reviewers: GypsyWitchBaby for the factual analysis on Thorin's Jackasseyness. Bekkarific for the multiple awesome reviews, BubbleInk for the love of my story, and EVERYONE ELSE: You're all amazing. Thank you for reading ! **

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	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen: All of Our Flaws

Raolace stood in a small corner of the grand courtroom, his face and body shaded by surrounding drapes and wooden backdrops. He watched the exchanges taking place in the King's hall. Men and servants and noblewomen alike bustled about- cleaning, preparing food, or speaking with one another. He looked at each squire, maid, or councilman and tried to picture them as a potential threat, someone who secretly had it in for them. Undomner had been a very, very good friend of his. The captain of the Rohirim never expected the slightest treachery from the man, part of him was still debating on whether or not Hana and Dwalin had simply lured the man away and killed him there.

But even the dwarves were not that dull, because while on the verge of a huge trade, and while their kingdoms stood on a rather green and fragile alliance, betrayal from either side would be absolutely preposterous.

He had walked into the small back room over in the east wing to find one of his friend lying in a pool of his own blood, his head rolled away into the corner, and he could not help the sudden wave of vomit that arose from him then. Although he had seen a fair bit of carnage and suffering, he had never seen it this close to home, a place that he considered to be untouchable.

The bruises on Dwalin's neck were unmistakable, he had had heavy pressure there, and everything seemed to be just as the dwarves said.

And yet he still doubted.

Thorin stood besides Balin, and both dwarves stiffly bowed to his King. Hana and Dwalin stood not far away, observing the exchange. Each dwarf had been freshly equipped for a long journey home, with enough food to feed an army for the sixty dwarves that were waiting with their ponies just outside the gates. He watched the two royals exchange words of gratitude and well wishes, and then finally Fengel stepped down to grip Thorin by the forearm in a symbol of friendship.

The four dwarves turned to leave after each took a moment to personally thank the king. Thorin however, stood for a moment, eyes scanning the room. Finally, they landed on him, and the dwarf approached.

"I owe you my thanks." Thorin said- stretching out his arm- Raolace took it. "Just doing my duty."

"I would hope that our kingdoms remain allies for a long while." The prince said, offering the captain of the Rohirim a genuine smile. He smiled back.

"Take care Thorin," Raolace said, "Give Hana my regards."

"I will."

/

Balin hummed under his breath as he pushed his pony further through the snow. The blizzard had stopped, yes. But a good half a foot remained in testimony to the storm.

The company of sixty had each been laden with heavy winter furs as well as two cart loads of meals to get them to Erebor. If it had simply been him and Thorin, the journey would be over in a mere week or so, but the king's command to bring along a small dwarvish army had slowed them in more ways than one.

He sighed. Still, it was a great comfort to him knowing that if they were faced by an enemy their sheer numbers would more likely than not overrun the foe. Balin shuddered at the thought of a repeat of what happened all those months ago, and he silently prayed to Mahal that they would escape such a fate if the problem arose again.

"Balin." Thorin greeted, bringing his pony up to a trot next to the older man. Balin did not need to ask what he wanted, by the look in his eyes, he knew.

"You have bought six extra ponies, each carrying their own chest of gold." The prince said slowly, and he could not help but avoid the youth's intense gaze. "And these four of these chests are not the ones given to us in trade."

"Well, Laddie…" he started out, wondering what he would say. For what could he? That a strange woman appeared in his quarters and offered a substantial amount of money for no apparent reason? He rubbed his hand against the tightly bandaged area of his forearm- there did seem to indeed be an underlying reason, if only he could figure it out.

"I spoke with Fengel," he said slowly, mulling each syllable over in his head before releasing it from his tongue. "I told him of my problem, and he assured me financial aid." The lies tasted bitter in his mouth, and he immediately wanted to recall them, but now would not be the time.

Thorin's jaw dropped. "You're serious?" he questioned, a fullness of hope consuming his voice, Balin mentally winced, but offered a tight smile nonetheless.

"Yes."

The prince's overall features relaxed a bit in the saddle. "A weight has been taken from my shoulders my friend." He said; a twinkle in his grey eyes. "The thought of you getting into trouble for helping me has nearly driven me mad, but no longer." He smiled, and raised his reigns to urge his horse forward. "I'm going to tell Hana!"

As the prince moved forward, Balin could not help the twinge of sadness that overflowed in his bosom. He hated lying, for it always seemed to come back to bite him in the end.

And yet, joy was edging at his emotions like a winters frost on a roof. He would be free! No prison, no shame, no distrust, it was as if all of his past actions had been completely erased.

He shut off the voices in his head telling him that he should feel guilty, for why should he? He did a noble thing to help one that he loved, and in the end his actions would hurt no one. Thror would still receive his desired amount of gold and Fengel would not be the one paying. Even if that woman had seemed a little…off. It did not matter now, what mattered was that his future was back on track, and in those moments, Balin son of Fundin felt as free as a bird.

"Aren't you going to talk to him?" a voice rang out by his side- the old man jumped and swiveled in his saddle, only to see his younger brother Dwalin.

"How do you mean?"

The large dwarf pointed a meaty finger at the couple riding not far ahead. They were a respectable distance apart, but anyone could tell by the way that they spoke and laughed, by the way their eyes lingered on each-other just slightly longer than necessary, that the two had a mutual feeling for one another.

"She's alright." Dwalin said, and Balin turned incredulously, his brother was not a giver of compliments, and saying that someone was 'alright' was about as close as he got.

"She's strange." He added, "No beard, no money to her name, I can honestly say that I am not sure why Thorin would have feelings for such an unsightly face. But at the same time, she just seems- different."

"Different?"

Dwalin nodded. "I can't explain it; she just isn't like the other dwarf girls that he's been with. They were all easy on the eyes, rich, and more than willing to be his. I would choose one of his suitors back home as a wife any day." He stared forward. "And yet, he chose her."

Balin stiffened. "What do you mean _chose_?"

"It's obvious." His brother said, unconsciously chewing on his fingernail. "Just by the way they look at each other, speak to one another. I wouldn't be surprised if he has already purposed a courtship, in fact- I think he has. Thorin's not the kind to pursue a girl without her permission."

Balin gulped, "Oh…"

"I like to see him like this, so happy." Dwalin continued. "But you know as well as I where it will lead. Thror will never accept her. Thrain might, with enough poking and prodding, but he has no word over the king. And the people as well, they won't have any of it. A strange nobody marrying their beloved prince." He met his brother's eyes steadily. "You've got to tell him."

Balin heaved a great deep sigh, feeling a bit of his age come back to him. "I think that he already knows." said the dwarf slowly. "Thorin's smart. He knew where this was headed long before now. He will have to choose between her and the throne. I always thought that he'd choose the later if a situation like this ever arose- but now I'm not so sure. I would hate to see him throw away all of his hard work and earned respect, even for her. Thorin is just the king that Erebor needs." He rubbed his face wearily. "I think that he will come to realize that, and accept responsibility."

Dwalin nodded. "I agree, he is far too sensible." He gazed at the couple ahead, who were now laughing loudly at a joke someone had said. "I would just hate to take him away from that, from the happiness she has given him. Thorin has not fallen in love in all of his years in Middle Earth- who knows when he will again?"

"It's not about love Dwalin, not for him." Balin said, feeling an uncomfortable weight settle in his chest. He would need to talk to Thorin soon, before he grew any more attached.

"I know," The young dwarf said, looking ahead with a large layer of nostalgia in his tone. "But I wish it was."

"As do I…"

/

Thorin could not help but be jealous that she would have her own tent. The camp had been set up on a somewhat melted piece of ground, each tent housing a fair number of dwarves, Hana being lucky enough to be born female, got a smaller one all to herself. He watched in amusement as she fumbled with the stakes, putting all sorts of items where they shouldn't be and using all of the wrong tools. He watched for a while, letting her mess up a few times until he decided to assist. Finally, when she was red in the face and he was afraid she would throw a fit, he approached.

"Not the outdoorsman-are we?" He asked, a smile in his voice as he gently took the tent poles from her hands. Hana huffed, crossing her arms against her chest.

"It's broken."

"Broken?" he questioned, trying to sound serious.

The girl nodded. "Obviously."

"What makes you say that?"

Hana let out what sounded like a cross between a gasp and a sigh, looking up at the clouded sky in exasperation she said, "It just is- alright?" frustration edged at her voice and her face grew a little red, even though her freckled cheeks were already tinged pink from the winter's chill. Thorin could not help but smile as he moved to push the stakes into the ground. Threading both poles through the sleeves, he propped the tent up with little effort. He turned, and Hana had her eyebrows knitted in anger. "Whatever." She mumbled.

He laughed a deep hearty laugh that felt foreign in his chest, but warm and welcoming all the same. Hana slowly unfolded her arms, and her huffs of white breath grew less and less. Finally, she began to smirk, and then giggle, which soon turned into all out laughter that seemed to harmonize and clash perfectly with his.

"I think I have found your fatal flaw, Hana." He said as he brought the tarp over her tent and tied it down. "You do things that you aren't ready for, and then you're far too stubborn to ask for help."

She smirked, "And you _don't_ have any of these 'fatal flaws'?"

"Oh I do." He said, dusting his gloved hands off on his trousers as he turned to her. "I have quite a few, but I'd say that stubbornness isn't one of them, at least not compared to you. I'm fairly sure that you could win a staring contest with a rock if you so desired."

Hana pushed his chest playfully, but things soon grew quiet as Thorin's eyes met hers, and they both shared a small, innocent smile that made his heart speed up for no explainable reason.

"Is that so, Thorin, son of Thrain?" she questioned, although this time her voice had grown quiet, and her eyes glanced at his lips for a half of a second before coming up to look into his own, grey eyes. She probably thought he hadn't noticed, but he had.

"Indeed," he whispered, unconsciously stepping closer, their gaze locked. He could feel her breath ghosting across his face- shivering, he reached for her hand.

"Excuse me."

Their heads turned sharply to see Balin, the elder dwarf balancing on the balls of his heels, his face turned up in what was an awkward smile. "May I borrow him for a moment?"

He saw Hana nod in his peripheral vision, and despite all of his urges to remain where he stood, Thorin moved towards Balin. "I will see you," he called to her as he began to reluctantly follow the elder dwarf away from the crowded campsite and into the woods, settling in a spot that was close enough to see the campfires but just far enough to be out of earshot.

Balin turned to him as he rested his back against a tree, not meeting his eyes. "For the good of everyone Thorin, just tell me. Are you courting her?"

The dwarf prince sighed, he already knew where this conversation would lead, but he held far too much respect for Balin to cut him off. "Yes." He said slowly. "I'd say for a month now."

Balin nodded, as if he had been expecting such an answer. "As your advisor," he said slowly, the moonlight reflecting his aging features- although his eyes were still young, "And as your friend, I must ask you to break it off. You _know_ that Thror will have none of it, none of her. You know that you will have to choose between her and the throne, and you need to choose now while it's still easy."

"Easy?" Thorin could not help the sarcastic half laugh that left his lips. "How on earth would that be easy? You don't understand Balin, I _love _her, and she loves me." He saw his friend wince, but did not regret his words for a moment.

"But Thorin," he said, "you've spent your _entire_ life preparing to be king, trying to gain stability in the sights of your grandfather. You've gone to school, spent countless hours perfecting your public speaking, not to mention all of those scars from learning how to use a sword. All of those years, all of that effort, for a girl you've known for six months?"

Thorin bit his lip. The thought had not come to him since before they were separated all of those weeks ago. He did not particularly like the idea, to sacrifice this much, but being with her just somehow made it worth it.

"What about Frerin?"

"_Frerin?_" Balin questioned in disbelief. "Your younger brother has done nothing but attend parties and court one girl after the next. Would he really be fit to rule? Would you really be so harsh as to leave the sake of our kingdom in his hands?"

He was right. His younger brother had been nothing but incompetent since he first arrived from the womb. He had never been interested in his studies or sword play or government, he only cared about things that were social, things that were 'fun'. Things that Thorin had determined as useless long ago. He bit his lip, looking at his feet. If Frerin were to rule the dwarf could easily bring their kingdom to turmoil, and in the end he would be to blame.

"Would you really make Hana go through all of that?" Balin questioned, and his head shot up.

"What do you mean?"

He rubbed a hand over his face. "She would have to bear the guilt of knowing that she took away all of your dreams of success. She would have to live with the fact that if you had never met her, you would be a strong king and Erebor would prosper. You cannot tell me for a moment that it won't get to you- the thought of what could have been. Are you really going to make her feel as if she's second best? As if you regret your decisions and wish you had pursued the throne?" Thorin felt his heart drop in his chest at the words, Balin had more of a point then he'd care to admit.

"If you _really_ love her Thorin, you will not subject her to this. She deserves better than that."

Thorin felt a part of his heart crack- he had just gotten her back, would he really be able to say goodbye? But then again, it would be easier now than later. At least now she wouldn't receive the brunt of the outrage that would come from Thror and the dwarves of Erebor upon finding out about their courtship. And yet…

"I want to be with her." He said softly, looking at Balin pleadingly, as if the old dwarf held a resolving answer to all of his troubles. Balin laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know laddie," he said softly, "I know it's hard. But you have to think beyond tomorrow, and about what's best for Erebor and Hana, and what's best is to cut this off."

He felt his heart clench in his chest. That was the last thing on earth he wanted to do, and yet he knew deep down that it was the only way to minimalize the hurt that would come from this.

"Please Thorin," Balin said, putting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "You need to let her go."

A heavy, unbearable weight settled in his chest then. "Alright." He said slowly. "I will."

/

Hana awoke to the ruffling of the tent flap as someone entered, she shot up from her bed roll, hand reaching for her sword, but soon she relaxed. "Thorin."

The dwarf prince smiled, but it wasn't his usual smile. His eyes were distant and the muscles in his face seemed tired, his eyes not crinkling as much as they normally did.

"What is it?" she questioned, immediately worried.

"I was going to ask if we could go on a walk." Thorin said stiffly, and Hana nodded, unquestioningly getting to her feet and pulling on a pair of boots.

When they had left the tent and gone a little farther off into the forest, she said, "Talk to me."

He took a deep, heaving breath. "I spoke with Balin." He said. "He thinks- and I… agree…. That we should… that this is…well…"

Hana felt her heart drop a little bit. "You want this to end?" she deadpanned, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Us, I mean."

He gulped, and after a moment, he nodded- albeit hesitantly.

"Alright."

His head shot up at her simple response, confusion racking his features. "You _want_ this?"

Hana let out a short, dry sarcastic laugh. "Mahal no." she said. "I love you Thorin, son of Thrain, more than I think you will ever comprehend. You are the most brilliant person I have ever had the good fortune to know. You are strong and kind and smart and you will never have any inkling as to just how handsome you are." The words were spilling out like a waterfall now, but no matter how much she tried to cap it off they just kept coming.

"I want to spend the rest of my life by your side; I want to and grow old with you." She saw his jawline clench as his gaze traveled to the forest floor. Gently, she took the glove off of his hand so that way she could feel his skin against hers. Their fingers intertwined seamlessly. "But most of all, Thorin, I want you to be happy, and if this is what makes you happy, than I will go through with it."

Thorin let out an exhausted sigh, his eyes looking much older than they should and his shoulders sagging. "This _is not_ what I want though, Hana." He said squeezing her hand, "I just- I wish not to hurt you."

"Do not worry about me." She said, although she already began to feel the sickness of heartbreak set in- she was well aware that this was going to hurt like nothing else, she knew that from the beginning.

"You do not understand," he said, stopping to look at her. "We have been through so much. I cannot explain why you are different from the others. You are just… real. I have pictured a life without you, a life as a lonely king, and it is miserable indeed."

"I knew from the start that this would end in pain." Hana said slowly. "I knew that from the very start, and I accepted it. I still do… you should as well."

"I do not want to accept it." He said. "I do not want to have any of it, the pain, the sadness, any of it."

"And yet it is here." She said softly, feeling her voice strain and crack in her throat, the pain was indeed present.

"It'll be alright Thorin," Hana assured, slowing to a stop in the middle of the trees. Thorin turned, his grey eyes finding hers. She stared into them, trying to convey every single emotion that had been ripping her apart and then stitching her together those months. "We just need to accept it."

Thorin took a step forward so that their faces were inches apart. With one hand resting on her back and another threading through her hair he whispered, "I will not."

"What are you doing?" she questioned quietly, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

"I will not accept this as the end." He said; his breath ghosting across her lips. "I will not let us be over. Not yet."

"But Thorin, you know that… that…" whatever word that was in her mind ceased to exist as he brought his hand to her chin. Their eyes met for a long moment, Thorin silently asking if it was alright, and Hana silently giving a snarky remark that was somewhere along the lines of _Obviously_.

The distance was closed.

For the longest moment she could not even believe what was occurring. The thought that she was kissing Thorin, prince of Erebor was both exhilarating and terrifying. His lips were chapped against hers, but that was who he was, and she wouldn't have changed that for anything. Her eyelids shut as she pressed back gently, hoping that whatever she was doing was right. The moment seemed to pass for an eternity while a mixture of butterflies, sparks, and an unmistakable happiness erupted inside of her. His hands were warm and gentle against her face, and their lips fit together flawlessly. She could think of no better place to be in the entirety of time and Middle Earth than there in that forest, cold, tired, hungry and frostbitten, kissing Thorin.

He pulled back all too soon, his fingers brushing hair off of the side of her face.

"We will work something out." He whispered. "I will talk to Thror, we will stay strong, I will not let you go, not ever, _ever_ again."

She smiled, and although the world seemed to be crashing down around her, she had never been more at peace in her entire life than she had in those moments.

"Do you think we could do that again?"

/

Thorin silently moved into his tent, most of the men were in bed by now, but a few stayed up to poke the fire and reminiscence about 'the good ol' days'. He sighed as he laid down in his bedroll, running a hand through his thick dark hair, _Well,_ he thought to himself. _That backfired._

Balin would be waiting for an answer, for him to confirm that he had left her, but Thorin would have nothing to give him. He sighed, inexplicably finding that he didn't really care.

All would come together, he just knew it. And if it didn't- he rolled over to look at the roof of the tent, smiling at the memory of her lips- if it didn't, then at least he had her, and that was all he needed.

/

**I actually had no idea as to when I was going to have them kiss. I never plan the first kiss out in a story, I just sort of let it happen when it feels right. Well guys, that's chapter eighteen! The entire thing was typed on a tablet, so forgive me for spelling or grammar errors. I hope you liked this chapter, I've got to say, it's my favorite so far. If you have any thoughts, questions, or suggestions, please don't hesitate to review! I love reviews and I want to hear what everyone has to say! My entire week is packed with college now, but expect a post at least every Sunday. I'm almost at twenty chapters... yay! Thanks for reading, stay amazing.**

**-Infinityscrip**

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	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen: In the Clear

Rosindium sat beside his newly packed bag, tying up his boots as the other took down the tent. Besides the ridiculous amount of snow- all had gone surprisingly well so far. No one had gotten frost bite, and they were almost to the Fangorn Forest with much food to spare.

"Sir, I think we are ready to depart." His second in command-Aradhelon said as he approached, leading a large black steed by the reigns. Rosindium nodded, surveying the area. Every tent had been taken down and the fires put out, the horses were equipped and each elf stood patiently waiting for his orders.

"Alright," Rosindium started. "We need to-"

_Thud._

At first, the auburn haired elf was unsure of where that noise had come from, but when a sharp throb came from his bicep, he knew. Looking down, he found that blood had soaked through his sleeve, and the head of an arrow protruded from his arm. He had been shot- and it had gone clear through.

Startled silence rang out in the area. He studied the faces of his men, all the while trying to ignore the pain. Some had swords drawn, eyeing the surrounding trees in suspicion, some stood, gaping at him. A horse whinnied, Aradhelon reached for him, but as he did another arrow whizzed past, just barely grazing the elf's nose.

"Take cover!" Rosindium shouted, taking the elf and shoving him to the ground. He gripped the shaft of the arrow and pulled. Pain wrenched through him and he fought down the urge to scream. If things had not been in such a mess he would have taken his time, but someone was out there, and he needed to kill them. Fast.

Tossing the bloodied arrow to the side, he reached for his own bow. Not a single shot had been fired since the one that had almost struck Aradhelon, but he knew better. He held his arm as he studied the surrounding area. The trees whistled softly and if he didn't know any better, he'd say that no one was there. Suddenly, he saw a movement about twenty yards away, the faint outline of their attacker weaving through the bushes.

He armed his bow, and ignoring the screaming in his muscles, he pulled the string back and aimed. Before he could fire however, a black mass of a man went sailing through the air, and landed on him.

He wasted no time trying to throw off his attacker, but whoever it was, had a strong grip, and Rosindium was not as he should have been with his arm bleeding out. They rolled, battling for a chance to strike as he attempted to push whoever it was away. Finally though, he heard a gut churning snap, and his arm went slack. He screamed.

His attacker moved to sit on top of him, knife raised in the air to strike, and Rosindium's heart nearly stopped. It was unmistakable; the attacker had the same dark skin, hair, and eyes as his friend. He bore the same high cheek bones and small tattoo beside his eye, it _had_ to be him.

"Immelethrin?"

The elf hesitated, knife still in the air. He opened his mouth as if he were to say something, but he was soon shoved off, knife thrown from his hand and pinned to the ground by Aradhelon.

"Let me go!" the elf shouted, struggling as more of his companions piled on top of him, holding him to the ground. Immelethrin kicked and thrashed, but it was no use.

"What's wrong with you?" Rosindium asked, standing. The darker elf said nothing; only shot him a nasty glare as the others bound his wrists tightly.

"Sir," Nerythiril, the medic of their company started as she approached. "Sir I need to see your arm."

Rosindium looked back at his friend, still wrestling against his bonds as the others dragged him away. They met eyes briefly, but Immelethrin only looked away. With confusion and hurt clouding his mind he nodded slowly.

"Do you know him?" she asked, gently pushing up the sleeve of his shirt, Rosindium winced in pain, it had to have been broken badly, as well as bleeding.

"I knew him."

/

"You didn't do it, did you?"

Thorin swiveled in his saddle, numbed fingers gripping the reigns of his pony. Dwalin rode next to him, wearing a mixture of fur and armor that must have weighed his poor steed down terribly.

"What do you mean?"

His eyes twinkled a moment. "You didn't call it off with Hana, like you said you would."

Thorin almost cursed. "Balin _told_ you that? Or were you just listening in on the conversation?"

Dwalin's shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "A little bit of both."

The dwarf prince grimaced, eyeing the road ahead. Hana was riding not far in front of him, Balin at her side. He was already wary of what his advisor was talking to her about, Balin had almost had a fit that morning upon finding out that Thorin had not done as he wished- but the dwarf prince had stood his ground, albeit a little shakily. The elder dwarf had not made eye contact with him since.

"I did not." he said, looking back at Dwalin, and the larger dwarf nodded. "I doubted you would."

Thorin raised an eyebrow, Hana was now scratching the back of her head in the way she did when apologizing, Mahal he hoped Balin wasn't being an idiot. "Oh really?"

Dwalin gave a short laugh. "We've been friends since we were dwarflings Thorin, I could say that I know you pretty well." He took a breath, and then continued. "I've seen you get angry and I've seen you get upset. I've seen you become anxious and I've seen you when you're content. But in the ninety years I have known you- I have never, ever seen you like this."

"Like what?"

"Well for starters, you've hardly looked at me this entire conversation."

Thorin's head snapped to the left, and Dwalin let out a bark of laughter at this. The dwarf prince felt his face heat up in embarrassment. "Very funny." He said, "I am looking at you now- so go on."

The larger dwarf scratched his beard. "Not once have you lost your temper- you've been surprisingly humble and kind this journey, not once shouting or letting things get to you."

"Am I not usually humble and kind?"

Thorin's face only heated up more when Dwalin said, "No, not usually."

"Fine," he huffed. "What else?"

"The way you look at her- like she is the most beautiful thing on this side of the earth- and mind you she isn't that bad on the eyes, save her face- but what does a face matter anyways? I mean, just look at those-"

"Dwalin." Thorin interjected, a little annoyed at his friend's remarks, but knowing that they were in good nature, the dwarf prince would let it go.

"Ah yes- sorry." Dwalin said. "It's just- you look at her… well, you look at her like she's the Arkenstone." He said, and Thorin sat up a little straighter at the mention of his family's jewel. "You look at her as if she is your most prized possession."

"I do not own her." Thorin said.

"No, you don't." Dwalin agreed. "But she'd be yours if you asked. What made you change your mind?"

The dwarf prince chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, blinking as a stray snowflake fell into his eye. "I do not think I ever had my mind made up in the first place." He said. "I had the intent to let her go when I went and talked to her last night. But something in me was screaming the entire time- telling me that if I did I would regret it for an eternity, telling me that I must keep her at all costs. I ignored it at first, but when she looked me in the eyes and said that she would let us separate if it made me happy, and when I saw all of the pain she held within, I just knew that it was right." He looked up at the overcast sky, completely white save a few patches of blue here and there, his eyes traveled with a snow flake as it descended, eventually floating towards Hana and entangling itself in her hair. "That we were right."

"Your grandfather will not be pleased." Dwalin said slowly. "But I suppose that you're already aware."

Thorin nodded. "I am."

"You'll still go through with it though- won't you?"

"I will."

Dwalin sighed, offering Thorin a simple smile, which was a sight that you did not see from him often. "I'm with you Laddie."

A comfortable silence took over, one that left Thorin feeling a small sense of peace overcome him. A thought soon came to mind.

"Do you think-"

Thorin gasped midsentence, clutching his stomach as an intense pain ripped through him, seeming to tear him open from throat to gut; he let out a gasp as darkness blotted his vision.

"What it is?" Dwalin asked, laying a hand on his arm to keep him steady. Thorin gave a few heavy breaths, trying to control his nausea. Ears pounding and dizziness swamping his mind, he sat up, trying to ignore the pain as it ebbed away at an extremely slow pace. "It's nothing," he breathed, biting his tongue.

The larger dwarf didn't look too convinced. "Should I tell Balin?" he asked, eye brows knitted. Thorin shook his head vigorously, Balin was already upset, and he didn't need any more chastising. "I am fine," he said again, as the dizziness began to pass. "Really- I am, please- don't tell Balin."

"What about Hana?"

"Not her either."

Dwalin rolled his eyes. "Your pride will kill you."

"Let it."

/

Kenaii raised her hand and knocked on the simple wooden door. Only a moment passed before it swung open, and she was being pounced on by children.

"Kenaii!" Bambur yelled, throwing himself into her arms as Bafur hugged her skirts. She eyed the house, Bombur sat at the kitchen table digging into a rather large seed cake, Bumble lay sound asleep in his cradle. She could not help but smile, imagining the days when she could have children of her own.

She shut the door quietly behind her as she examined the place, it was fairly messy, dishes and pots littering the kitchen and toys covering the floor of the main room, but that only made it feel all the more homey to her.

She gave Bambur a big kiss on the cheek. "EW!" he exclaimed as she put him down and he ran away, all the while scrubbing his sleeve against the side of his face. She smiled.

"Kenaii, Kenaii!" a little voice from below her came, and she looked down to see Bafur, jumping desperately to get her attention.

"What is it?" she asked, leaning down. Bafur had a huge grin plastered on his cheeks. "Bofur said he kissed you- is it true?"

She felt her face heat up a bit, and then she let out a laugh. The memory had been burned into her mind as if it were a branding iron against skin. Bofur had taken her on a walk a few nights past, and it just sort of happened. Kenaii smiled to herself- it was all she had ever hoped for.

"Maybe…" she said slyly, ruffling Bafur's hair. The boy let out a whine. "Tell meeeeee!"

"A lady never reveals her secrets."

"Ugh!" Bafur said. "Fine, will you come play ball with me?"

Kenaii studied the room. "In a moment." She said, "Where's Bofur?"

"He's upstairs," said Bafur, "Hurry up so we can play!"

She climbed the spiral staircase that led to the upstairs bedrooms. Walking down the hall, she found the second door on the left, that one being Bofur's, and knocked quietly.

"It's open."

She pushed on the door to find Bofur sitting on the edge of his bed, his hat lying on his lap as he braided his hair.

"How are you, love?" he asked as she approached.

"I'm alright," she said, bending down to press their lips together for a moment. "And you?"

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards, but she could see it in his eyes- he was tired, he was sad and he was definitely in need of a good laugh. "Just fine." He said.

She threaded her fingers through his coarse brown hair, and then began braid it. "Tell me the truth."

She jumped a little bit when he rested his forehead against her stomach, his arms coming around her waist. "I'm sad," he said into her dress, and then pulled back to look at her with his tired eyes. "Just sad."

Kenaii bit the inside of her cheek- he had told her everything that had happened, of his mother, of Hana, he had told her how the world was crashing around his ears and how he just wanted to hide in his room until the end of time. They had had some happy moments- yes, but they had never lasted long. Kenaii had watched as his life fell apart, and every moment of it was making her sick.

"C'mere."

He stood shakily, and she picked up his hat from the side of the bed, and gently pulled it over his ears.

She brought him into an embrace then. Squeezing him tightly as she knew he needed to be. He sighed, hugging her back just as fiercely.

They stayed like that for a long moment, just enjoying the fact that they were together. Kenaii could only hope that someday he would recover from all of this.

"EW!"

Both turned to see Bambur in the doorway, pointing a little finger at them. "Why are you doing that? That's disgusting!" he accused, as if giving a hug was a crime. She felt Bofur laugh beside her as he brought an arm around her shoulders; she smiled, suddenly at ease.

Bafur popped his head in the doorway. "Can you play ball now?"

She looked up at Bofur who had a lovely twinkle in his warm eyes. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

/

"What did he say to you?" Thorin asked as he came up to ride beside her. Hana shrugged, watching Balin trot away. "Not much."

"Hana…"

"No really!" she exclaimed, trying to remember his exact words. "He simply said that he wanted me to take care of you."

Thorin's eyes widened for a moment, "Really?"

She felt herself nod. "He told me that while Thror will not be pleased, but he trusts your judgment. He told me that he just wants to me protect you."

Thorin grunted beside her. "I wonder why he didn't tell _me_ that."

Hana laughed. "You dwarrows, always taking everything so seriously, I doubt Balin meant any offense."

The dwarf prince huffed, and Hana fought back another laugh.

She could not help the overwhelming feeling of happiness that had been bubbling in her all morning. Thorin had chosen- and he had chosen her. In all of the years she had been alive she _never_ would've believed for a moment that someone like him would want someone like her, and yet he did.

When silence was all that came from her left, she turned, only to see Thorin, chin bowed to his chest, swaying hazardously on the pony. Immediately her hand shot out to grip his arm. "Thorin?" she asked, and when he did not look at her- "Thorin what is it?"

Before she could do anything he was sliding off of the saddle and falling face first onto the snow covered ground between them. The dwarves behind them were just barely able to pull their ponies back in time to keep from trampling him. Hana leaped off and rushed to him, heaving him out of the snow and onto his back. His eyes were closed and his face contorted in pain, his breathing labored. "Thorin," she said, feeling her voice shake with concern, the prince gave a deep groan, but his eyes remained shut. "Thorin, wake up!" she pleaded.

"What happened?" a dwarf she recognized as Dori, second in command said as he approached. "Find Balin and find a healer." She said, and when he just looked at her in confusion she shouted, "Do it now!"

There was a rumbling of footsteps around her as dwarfs rushed up and down the trail searching for Balin. They began to crowd around her, asking what was wrong and such, but she didn't pay them any mind, only kept a hand brushing through his hair in an attempt to sooth him from the obvious hurt. Hana felt a dark shiver of concern overcome her. What in Durin's name was going on?

"What is it?" Balin asked, kneeling down in the snow next to her to examine Thorin, Dwalin stood not far away.

"He just fell." She said, voice shaking. "He- he just blacked out and fell into the snow." Balin nodded. "Where's Oin?" he questioned to the crowd.

"I'm here!" a dwarf said, if she had been paying attention Hana would see that he had a strangely curled mustache and braided beard that was a similar salt and pepper color as Balin's, but she wasn't. Oin gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to need you to move."

She nodded, feeling sick. Although it was the last thing she wanted to do, she gently moved Thorin from her lap and got to her feet, standing up and walking back a few paces to be by Dwalin.

Oin inspected Thorin, searching his body for any signs of injury; and then prying open his mouth and peering into it. Hana bit her lip, praying that her prince would be alright.

"Ieiunium Somnus!" Oin declared, and when he looked up to see that no one understood, "It's a poison."

"He's been poisoned?" Balin questioned, and Oin nodded.

"His mouth is covered in rough, white patches, and his breathing is extremely heavy. I heard about this poison while in study, but never thought I'd encounter it."

"What's it doing to him?" Hana asked, and Oin looked up to greet her eyes, he sighed heavily.

"The poison, in itself, comes from a mixture of the poena, iuguolo and cubitus plants, and each of these work together as a fatal poison." He turned to Balin. "Thorin has a month at most, the poison will keep him from eating, sleeping, and eventually, he won't be able to move. He will more likely than not starve to death before spring."

Hana felt her heart shatter. "No," she said softly, her chest seemed to constrict. _Mahal why is this happening?_ She felt Dwalin put a hand on her shoulder.

"Is there _any_ way to counteract it?" Balin asked, eyes huge in concern, and when Oin didn't meet his gaze the dwarf's voice rose into a shout. "There _has_ to be way!"

"Well…" Oin started, "The only people I know who have something similar to an anecdote are the elves of Rivendell, but he'll be dead before we could get there." He sighed. "The stress of this environment will only make it worse. Our best option is to get to Erebor as fast as possible and maybe the medicine workers there can find something."

"Alright." Balin said, "I will go ahead, with Thorin."

"I need to go to," said Oin, "He needs to be monitored."

"I'm going as well." announced Dwalin. "You will need a bodyguard."

"Please…" she started, and Balin turned to her "Please let me go with you."

The elder dwarf nodded. "I told you to take care of him didn't I?"

Oin pulled a vial out of his coat that contained a thick yellow jelly. He put some on his finger and smoothed it on the insides of Thorin's mouth. "This takes away some of the pain, we mustn't let him ride a pony, he's far too ill.

Balin nodded. "Bring us a cart!" he ordered.

Soon a cart pulled by two oxen, one of the carts that had first transported the iron, was brought to the front of the company. Food was loaded quickly inside and then blankets were roughly set up. She watched as Dwalin carried Thorin to the cart and placed him gently on the makeshift bed, and then covered him with a blanket. Oin moved to the seat of the cart, grabbing a nearby whip to get the cattle going.

"Dori!" Balin called, and said dwarf approached. "Lead the company to Erebor." Said Balin, putting a hand his shoulder. "I'm counting on you."

Hana wished desperately to go to Thorin, _And do what?_ She asked herself. _How could you possibly help him?_ Biting the thought off, she mounted her pony and steered it forward to break into a crisp pace after Oin, Dwalin and Balin following behind.

And although she could feel the ice and snow against her cheeks, and although she could taste the pine in the air, she tried to convince herself that this was all a very horrible dream, one that she would soon wake up from. For Thorin could not die- he would never die. He was invincible. They were supposed to grow old together, she still intended to.

Looking over at Balin and Dwalin, and seeing the same sadness and sickening anxiety that was inside of her on their features, Hana let a tear fall, it was not a dream.

/

**Well yalls- I hate to leave you hanging, but I'm running low on time. I'm hoping that you like this story, and that this plot twist won't hurt anybody too badly (laughs evilly) :D. I'm so happy with all the reviews, follows, and favorites. You guys make me feel so special! Be prepared for fluff, hurt/comfort, and a heaping helping of angst. **

**I did want to address dearreader with your guess on the plot twist. (holy elven plot twist xD ) The woman that gave Balin the gold is **_**not**_** Galadriel, she's the skinchanger wolf who attacked Immelethrin, (chapters 10, 11, 13) As a quick backstory that I'll elaborate on later, she was tricked by Dradun into being his servant, and has slowly turned evil, now she does his bidding, and makes deals with people. The deal usual goes like this: someone is in desperate need, it's either a life or death situation or very close. She shows up and offers them what they need (In Immelethrin's case, healing, in Balin's case, gold) but in exchange she "comes for them" in the future. She gives whoever it is a scar, and when the scar fades, that means she's coming for them. (In chapter 18 it shows Balin rubbing his hand against a bandaged wound). Although the Galadriel idea isn't half bad, I wish I would have thought of that :D Now I want to incorporate her in somehow- Galadriel is the best! Thank you for the input!**

**As always, read and review. Thank you to all of my followers. You guys give me hope for this story!**

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

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	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty: Beyond Grief

Thorin awoke to a distinct pounding in his skull.

He sat up, his palm pressed to his forehead, but that only caused the dull ache to intensify, and a heavy sense of dizziness overcame his senses. He pulled his eyes shut, biting his lip and gasping in pain. A hand rested on his chest and another cradling his neck, slowly pushing him back to lay down in what he realized were a series of furs and bedrolls. A hand shielding the oncoming light, Thorin managed to keep his eyes open at a squint.

A pale, freckled face with dark blue eyes and honey colored hair at its edges filled his vision. "Hana." He said, and then winced at the sound of his own voice. "What happened?"

Her voice was shaky as she bit her lip, wringing her hands in anxiety. Finally she said, "You blacked out."

"Oh," he looked around the tent that he lay in, finding that its only inhabitants were the two of them, although there were four other sleeping areas set up besides his. He had remembered losing every sense of balance, and then finally his vision was overcome with darkness and he was falling. Only blackness expanded the time from then to now.

"Why do I hurt so bad?" he questioned in a rasp, throat efficiently dry. "And can I have some water?"

She nodded, retrieving a water satchel and gently holding it up to him as he balanced on his elbows. "Oin said you can have as much water as you want." She said, eyes not meeting his. "And Mahal knows you need it after all of that sleeping you did."

Thorin almost choked. "How long was I out?"

"A day and a night." She said with a shrug. On the surface, this could be an average conversation -well as average as the two adventuring dwarves got- but in these moments when Thorin studied her eyes, her face, and how her shoulders lightly shook and her lip trembled, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that something was wrong. She didn't want to tell him though- obviously, or else she would have done so by now. So what on earth could it be?

"Hana." He whispered, bringing himself to a sitting position as his headache began to ebb away and his body's hydration levels increased. "What is it?"

Her eyes met his, and something in them made him break inside. Whatever it was- he wanted to take it all away, destroy everything that was hurting her and never let it come back.

"It would be best if Oin explained." She said softly.

Now he was efficiently scared to death. "Tell me what's going on." He pleaded, he had never seen the same fear in her features as he did now, and it was killing him. "I can take it."

To his dismay Hana simply shook her head. "We should wait."

"Did someone die?"

"No Thorin…" she said, biting her lip so hard now that there were deep red gashes in it.

"Was our gold stolen?"

Still she shook her head in denial.

"You didn't fall in love with someone else did you?" he questioned, a little more fearful of the answer than he cared to admit.

She laughed a little dryly. "Mahal no." she said, and looked at him for a full moment before she pulled him by the shoulders into a proper kiss. He couldn't help but feel some of the tension ease as their lips met, for something about it just seemed- _right_.

"Let Oin explain it, please?" she whispered when she pulled away. Thorin sighed. "Alright,"

"For now though, you should get some sleep." She said.

"I just slept for two days!" he exclaimed.

Hana rolled her eyes. "Well you should at least lie down then, now's not the time to be walking around."

Thorin took a swig of the water. "And why not?"

"I told you Oin would explain."

He huffed, laying back down into his mess of blankets, closing his eyes and leaning his neck back to ease the headache that raged on still. "Have it your way."

He felt a weight settle behind him and opened one eye to see Hana, efficiently settled down next to him.

"Try to get some sleep?"

He smiled a bit. "Yes ma'am."

/

He awoke with her head on his shoulder, and flushed with relief at the familiar warmth by his side, which was what he needed more than anything. By now though, his headache was back, and he gently moved out from under her to get a drink of water. Looking around the tent he realized that night had fallen long ago. In the distance he could hear the crackling of a fire and the low, dim voices of Balin and Dwalin. He took a long draught of the liquid.

He looked over to see Hana still fast asleep, curled up into a ball at his side. She was covered in dirt and her hair was a wind-blown mess. _What had happened?_

Worry began to eat at his insides as he got to his feet shakily. She had told him that he shouldn't be moving around or eating- why on earth was this? He walked as quietly as he could manage to keep from waking her, for the lines on her face showed how much she needed a night's rest. He put on his boots and then opened the tent flap to stumble outside, water satchel still clutched in hand.

A few paces away sat Balin, Dwalin and Oin around a campfire, but to his astonishment, as he scanned the surrounding wood, he witnessed not a single other dwarf, the rest of the camp was nowhere to be seen.

"It's just us five." Said Balin from where he sat near the campfire. The elder dwarf beckoned him over, and Thorin walked forward, not a single part of his body seemed to be in pain save his head, but he could live with that.

"Here," Oin said, holding out a small angular leaf to the dwarf prince as he sat next to Dwalin. "This should help with your head, swallow it whole."

"What?" Thorin asked incredulously, although he took the leaf nevertheless, "Why can't I just eat it?"

"Trust me." Oin said, "You don't want to."

Thorin looked at him questioning, but when the dwarf gave him no answers he sighed in exasperation and pushed the leaf to the back of his throat, sending it down with a gulp of water.

When he finished, wiping the mouth with the back of his hand, he found all three dwarves staring at him intently. "Something was wrong with Hana."

Balin nodded. "I should think so; she hasn't slept since the day you fell off the pony. She's never left your side once."

Thorin felt a sense of guilt and confusion flush through him. What on earth would make her _that_ concerned? "What's wrong?" he questioned, and when they were quiet, "Someone just TELL me what's going on?!"

"Laddie…" Balin started, eyes staring off into the fire and then glancing at him. "You're dying."

Thorin swallowed. "What?"

"You've been poisoned." Oin spoke up.

"We assume by Undomner, who gave you that pint of water when you returned with Hana from the blizzard." Said Dwalin.

"Wait-" He said slowly, holding a hand up, his breathing increasing as he felt panic consume his insides, mind reeling at a million miles a second. "I'm _dying? _I've been poisoned? But how? I don't feel _that _sick."

"The poison," said Oin quietly beside him "Is called Ieiunium Somnus, it is made up of certain herbs that when mixed turn effectively fatal."

Thorin nodded, looking into the fire. He felt his heart rate increase to an impressive pace that he usually only reached after he ran a mile. His hands began to sweat as he bit his lip. "What's going to happen to me?"

"Ieiunium Somnus coats your mouth, and grows in rough patches all over the inside of your cheeks and down your throat." Oin spoke, his voice turning monotone in that way that it did when he began to speak in medical terms. "It remains there, quickly contaminating any food that you eat so that when it's digested, your body will see it as a threat and you will vomit it all back up. You will not be able to eat anything- well, anything that needs to be chewed. Water goes through so fast that it doesn't get _as_ contaminated and your body accepts it, although the poison that is in the water will still slow down all of your systems, hence the headaches." He looked up at the dwarves, and in all seriousness: "You will starve to death primarily, and if not that, all of your bodily systems will shut down and you will die, whichever one comes first. I'm sorry my boy, but you have a month if we're lucky."

Thorin breathed a heavy breath. He was _dying_. Was that even possible? He was still remarkably young, healthy, and he had a future. Besides the migraine he didn't feel any pain, could he really be _dying?_

"I want to eat something." He said.

"Thorin you'll just-"

"Please," his voice shook in his throat as different waves of fear and disbelief washed over him. This had to be a bad dream. "Just let me try."

Oin looked at Balin, who nodded. Dwalin took out a piece of meat leather from his pocket and handed it to him, and Thorin ate it gratefully, for he was indeed hungry. He chewed and swallowed as quickly as he could- determined to defy the odds. As he grew to finishing the piece of meat however he began to feel a certain dizziness consume him, and nausea set in. He felt the dread that came with knowing you were about to vomit, and then was barely able to stand up, only to fall on his hands and knees, bile and fluids escaping him within moments. When he had finished retching, he could not help but stare at the spoiled grass in defeat.

This was happening.

This _was_ happening.

He cursed then, a shout that rose from his lungs and traveled through the midnight air of the forest. He cursed his life and lack of luck, he cursed Mahal for putting him in this situation, for letting him gain so much to only loose it all. He cursed everything.

He didn't cry, though he wanted to, he felt the tears prickle in his eyes as he was hit with the cold hard realization that he was dying, that he would never live the life that he wanted to. He would die a slow painful death leaving behind everything he held dear, and he was still far from middle age.

A hand settled on his back and he turned to see Dwalin, the large dwarf's eyes sympathetic- but not empathic, no- there was a huge difference there.

"I'm sorry, Thorin." He said. "I really, truly am."

He glanced at Balin, and found him to be rubbing his face furiously in an effort to dispel the tears that were obviously falling. Thorin felt his heart clench- this wasn't just hurting him, it was hurting others as well. If he was going to die, why couldn't it be when he was old? When he had lived a full enough life that people would remember him with fondness, and not with regret as to what could have been? He felt queasy again, and it was not because he was about to vomit.

"If I could just have a moment to myself," Thorin said, "please, if you could just manage that."

None of them said a word; they all just got to their feet and quietly shuffled into the tent one after the other.

When they were gone, Thorin turned to the fire then, effectively distancing himself from the puddle of vomit. He was not sure what he was hoping to accomplish by doing so- maybe just eliminate the idea that it had happened. Maybe he could ignore it. Maybe he could pretend that he wasn't dying, so that when his day came it would truly be a surprise.

He felt an unexpected sob arise from his throat, and immediately clapped his hand to his mouth to silence any noise he was about to make. In the end he was digging his teeth into the skin of his thumb, making sure that it _hurt, _just so that he could be assured that he was indeed still alive.

"Stop that," Hana's voice came from behind him as she wrapped her hand around his wrist and pulled the bleeding appendage from his mouth. As she sat down next to him he saw that her eyes were wet, red and puffy, she had been crying, hard.

She brought his hand to rest in both of hers in her lap, drawing tentative circles in his palm. "They told you then?"

Thorin nodded, looking off into the fire. He would hurt her too in the end, and the thought of it made his very bones ache.

"I just got you," she said, her voice choked as her hands shook. "I just got you and now I'm losing you."

He looked to see tears running freely down her face, leaving her eyes like little waterfalls and traveling mercilessly down the expanse of her freckled skin, finally stopping and dripping away once they reached the gap between her chin and neck. And it hurt him more than he could ever explain in words.

He took her hand in his, as if somehow he could convey through this simple touch of how sorry he was, of the sadness he felt, for every moment he endured this further ate at his happiness, his hope, both of which were already small sensations to begin with and were now practically nonexistent.

"It isn't fair." She whimpered between sobs, "Mahal it isn't fair. You can't- you…just…." her voice cracked, and then she dissolved. He looped his arm around her and pulled her close, letting her cry into the fabric of his coat, resting his chin against her head.

"I will never understand why you love me Hana." He said. "I'm a heartless, greedy, arrogant bastard who doesn't deserve any friendship or love like that which you offer me."

"Shut up." She said, her voice muffled, she began to shake in a way he could only describe as violent, and so he pulled her tighter, hoping that it would help, in any way at all.

"Let me finish." He said. "I will never understand why or how you love me," he said slowly… feeling a single tear fall from his eye, he blinked several times in an effort to dispel the onslaught, but down they came regardless. "But please, if you could just love me until I go… until my days end… it would make the rest of my life a little worth living."

She looked up at him then, and the sight of her, a complete tangle of emotions and pain, made him want to die right where he sat. He never wanted to see her like this, devastated and broken, for Hana could never be broken, yet there she sat, falling apart and hanging by a thread. It was then that he cursed _himself_ more than anyone else.

"Could you…please?"

She nodded. "That and long after."

He felt his mirage weaken at her words. "I don't want to die Hana." He said, voice cracking. He brought his hand up to brush through her hair, trying to memorize everything, how she felt to his touch, looked, sounded, smelled, he wanted to never forget this moment, for he was unsure if when would be his last.

"Oin said that maybe the medicine workers at Erebor could make something." She said, although her words brought him no hope. His home was not exceptionally remembered for it advanced medicine, most dwarves were resistant to disease and injury and lived a good two hundred years anyways, there was not much of a need for doctors. "Maybe you'll live."

"Yes, maybe."

She fell back onto him then, still a shaking mess. "I don't want you to leave me," she confessed, burying her face into his shoulder. "Please, don't leave me."

"I will not." he responded softly. "I honestly cannot think of anyone I would rather share my last days with."

He felt her smile against his shoulder, just a bit, but that was enough in itself to lift his spirits.

"I have a month." He said, trying desperately to make her smile again, to laugh, anything but what she was like now. "But you know how stubborn I can be, I'll probably live for a thousand more years."

"That would be lovely." She said in a half laugh. "That really would."

He breathed in her scent for a moment- a mixture of cinnamon and something warm, something that made him think of home. A home with her, spending each day together, maybe even having a family. He could close his eyes and imagine that, imagine coming home to her arms, imagine Balin marrying them, somewhere in a field, far, far away from the industrial and dark Erebor, where the sun was shining and where he could see her face clearly- each freckle standing out, as well as her blonde eyelashes and the scar beneath her chin. They'd bicker and laugh and live long, long lives. He would have traded every piece of gold in Erebor for the chance to witness that.

"I do not wish to think about it." He admitted. "Can we just pretend that it's not happening? At least for now?"

"Yes…" she said slowly, "I would very much like that."

Thorin's eyes widened in realization for a moment, "What if the poison is contagious?"

"I don't think so." She said. "Undomner obviously wanted me dead as well, and yet the poison in the water didn't affect me. They're thinking I may have and immunity to it. I've kissed you…" she paused. "Twice now, and Oin has checked everyone- we're clean."

"So I can still kiss you then?" he questioned, feeling relief wash over him. Hana gave him a small grin at this, "Please do."

/

She awoke often that night, cold sweat dripping from every inch of her as she searched frantically for Thorin, only to find him sleeping silently by her side. This troubled her considerably, for Thorin was a snorer.

Half of her suspected that he was awake as well, but they had come to the silent, mutual agreement to ignore the fact that he was dying, so she didn't ask or try to wake him. She simply looked up at him, memorizing every scar, every hair, every crack in his lips. He was far too perfect for her, and she never wanted to forget him.

Sometimes she's wake up to his head resting on her shoulder, tears staining her shirt. Other times she'd wake up to him suddenly pulling her close, engulfing her in his warmth. Each time she didn't ask, for she knew, and he knew, and there was no point in dwelling on what was inevitable.

/

**Hello!**

**Sorry for putting you all through this. It'll all work out I promise! DON'T GIVE UP ON ME (The title to this chapter kind of gave away the theme… that song makes everything depressing). As always, let me know what you think, and thank you for reading! **

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	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One: Fate

Rosindium could not help but glance back at their captive every so often. Immelethrin was bound at the hands, being pulled by a mounted elf as they made their way to Fangorn. What on earth was going on? He couldn't help but wonder what had happened after he had been arrested and returned to Thranduil. Had they made it to Rohan- or had something gone terribly wrong? And where was Hana?

Immelethrin would not meet his eyes no matter how many times he turned around- the dark elf would only glare at the ground, mouth in a firm line and hands twitching as they looked for a weapon- any weapon at all, to fight with. It was strange- not only had he found the elf's crossbow and sword, but an entirely different bow that he had never seen- one that was crudely carved and poorly balanced. He had many questions indeed.

They pulled onward, and the forest soon thinned out into flat ground as they crossed the plains. The heavy snow had subsided, leaving them with half frozen ground and red noses. Immelethrin had attacked from the west, driving him to the conclusion that there was indeed something in the forest. He contemplated his plan for what exactly to do when they found this 'bandit hideout.' Explosives were nice- he enjoyed using those. But what if there were traps? There undoubtedly would be- he reasoned to himself. All things are never as they seem, and he had been trained since a young age to see them.

Rosindium was well aware of the fact that his return to his wife and daughter was hanging on a thin line. The Black Council was nothing to be trifled with, but if given the choice, he would still be on this horse, riding to an uncertain fate. For what use was it to be with his family if he could not protect them?

He left with them a considerable amount of savings- although Taurien would be joining the guard again as soon as Tauriel was able to look after herself. He smiled at the thought of his daughter- she had high, high hopes. If she were to turn out anything like her mother- she would be perfect. Maybe not captain of the guard- that was far too dangerous, but he wouldn't mind seeing her as a scribe or teacher, maybe even a councilman like himself. He found himself musing over her future- what she would learn, who she would be with. Legolas- Thranduil's son was quite the strong young lad- and although the boy had no interest in girls yet- he would soon enough. Even if Thranduil did not allow them to be together, he hoped that they would be at least friends- for what purpose was there in life other than to make bonds, to find people to love and protect?

When they stopped for the night he dismounted his steed and went immediately to the imprisoned elf at the edge of their company. Making brief eye contact with Aradhelon as a signal to follow- he took Immelethrin's ropes and led him a ways away from the camp. The elf had been completely disarmed and tied tightly from elbows to wrist, but Rosindium still took comfort that Aradhelon was there just in case.

"Why did you do what you did yesterday- Immelethrin?" he asked, his voice firm although his insides were shaking. The elf looked up, his coal eyes seeming foreign and familiar all at once. Was this really Taurien's brother? The man who had been his closest friend? When Immelethrin said nothing, Rosindium spoke again- "What happened to Hana? What happened after I left?"

Still no answer.

"This isn't funny." He growled. "You could have killed people. What on earth has changed you like this?"

Immelethrin's gaze was unwavering- resting directly in his, yet the elf still kept his silence.

"Fine." Rosindium said. "If you do not answer before this journey's end- you will be put on trial. Staying silent will not be a reasonable choice- but still, it is yours to make."

"Sir!" a voice called, and Rosindium turned to see Nerythiril, the medic who had healed his arm the other night. "What is it?" he asked as she approached, his hand still firmly holding onto Immelethrin's ropes.

"A company of five dwarves has arrived." She said. "They request_ you_ personally."

/

"Can you help him?" Hana questioned as the elf medic examined Thorin's mouth- the dwarf prince appeared disgruntled but patient all the same. She poked and prodded around for a moment, but finally shook her head. "We do not have a cure for a sickness such as this, nor should anyone on the eastern side of Middle Earth. The herbs that were in this poison were rare." She said; her comment directed to Oin who listened intently. "Most of them have not been seen for years. Whoever made this had premeditated everything, and had real intent for his death- or else they would not waste such a vital resource."

Hana had only listened to half of what the elf had said, feeling her heart fall at the answer that no, Thorin could not be healed. Thorin would die. She glanced over at Rosindium who spoke quietly with Balin. The elf had been happy enough to see her, and Hana was relieved that he was free and alright. What troubled her considerably was the sight of Immelethrin bound and imprisoned, being watched over by two elves. She had told Rosindium everything that had happened since his forced departure, even up to when the dark elf had suffocated her in the snow. In return, the Greenwood elf told her of what had happened not two days ago- that Immelethrin had ambushed their company and attempted to kill him. She felt a bit of her sink at the thought- for everything seemed to become more real of late- everything seemed to be a little sharper.

"We move to Fangorn Forest." said Rosindium quietly as he addressed the five dwarves and elven medic. "Word has reached us that there is a potentially deadly group there- one that we intend to eliminate.

"They're the ones who hurt Immelethrin- aren't they?" she spoke up, cheeks turning a little red as they all looked at her. "Thorin was told by King Fengel that they had found what appeared to be a hideaway house in the forest- and that was where they assumed Immelethrin to be for the longest time. I…" she glanced at Thorin, who gave her a slight nod that it was alright to continue. "I rode off one day in search for him- heading straight for the forest. That was where I ran into him during the blizzard."

Rosindium nodded at this. "He attacked us from the west, so I would figure he had been stalking us from that direction. I think it best suits us to continue on our way, since there is so much evidence of where we must go." His eyes turned sympathetic as they passed from Hana's to Thorin's. "I only wish that I could help you."

"There is little you could do." said Balin grimly. "Unless you have a miracle cure or a way to go back in time that is."

"What a cruel fate this world plays." The elf said, looking down at his hands and then up at the prince. "I am truly sorry-"

"Don't-" Thorin hissed, holding up a hand. Hana winced. "_Just_- Don't."

The area went quiet as all eyes fell on him, some in sympathy and some in shock, and Hana could tell that he hated it. With his gaze not leaving the ground, he stood. "Excuse me," he mumbled, and then turned and stalked off a ways from the camp.

"I apologize in my prince's stead." Said Balin immediately. "He is just…"

But the dwarf's words faded from her mind as Hana stood, eyes searching for Thorin, and finally finding him standing about fifty yards away, facing the moon. She said not a word as she moved away from the firelight and into the dark- searching for him.

"Did I _embarrass_ you?" he questioned as she approached, back still facing her. Although his tone had been laden with sarcasm- she did catch a small hint of concern, one that made her almost stop in her tracks.

"No." Hana said simply as she came to stand beside him, looking up at the moon that he was currently analyzing.

"I am sorry." He mumbled. "I know he was just being kind, but it hurts to know that I am dying, I don't need to be reminded."

"Talk to me Thorin." She said, taking his hand. "What's going through your mind?"

"I have a nephew…" he said slowly, and Hana nodded- listening.

"My sister Dis had a child five years ago, with thick- amber colored hair, not unlike yours. His name's Fili, and although I'm not fond of children, I find him a lot more tolerable than most of the dwarves in Erebor. He's bright, adventurous, and far more intelligent than any of my Grandfather's councilmen."

Hana laughed a bit, and he smiled.

"Dis is pregnant now- carrying her second child, and it should be arriving in the next few months." He said, biting his lips. "I will not be here to witness that."

She squeezed his hand, fingering the pearl necklace that lay on her chest. She did not say anything- for what could she say? He was right- and he didn't need to be told that.

"I always thought myself to be invincible." He said. "I never would've imagined that our company would be killed off while you and I were held for ransom. I never would've imagined myself getting so broken over anything as I was when I thought I'd lost you. I never imagined myself dying, at least not at this age."

"I know." She said quietly. "I know it hurts- and goodness Thorin it kills me. To see you like this, to know that my days with you are numbered… and yet here we are, trying to come to terms with it because- well because we don't have much of a choice. We're running out of time."

He simply looked at her, tears sitting in his grey eyes but not leaving them.

"We're running out of time Thorin, and yet I still see some hope."

"Hope?"

She nodded. "I know that there are still happy days for us to experience, and smiles for us to share. This can't be the end- I just _know_ it."

His large, calloused hand came to rest on the crook of her neck and shoulder as he stepped forward and placed his lips gently against her forehead. "I will always be with you- Hana, when I die and long after. We must stay together."

"We will, Thorin" she said, pulling him into a tight embrace, feeling his shaking hands fall against her back as she buried her face into his chest.

"Hana?" he whispered, not breaking away.

"Hm?"

"Tell my nephew or niece about me, please?" he questioned. "I think that you will be the most honest out of those who knew me, do make sure to add in how annoying I have been."

She laughed into the fabric of his coat. "That and everything else my prince. Shall we return to the camp?"

"No…" he said, squeezing her a little tighter, "Not yet, if that is alright."

"Quite."

/

"She's taking care of him." Dwalin said quietly as he came to sit by his brother, who watched Thorin and Hana from where he sat at the fire. The elder dwarf nodded. "Yes."

"You're… alright with that?"

"Thorin is not going to be in Middle Earth much longer." He responded quietly. "I see no value in taking away whatever happiness he has left."

Dwalin growled. "Mahal… this is unfair. If only I had been the one to kill Undomner, I'd feel a little more satisfied."

"Something tells me that Undomner isn't the one behind all of this." Balin said. "I was discussing what had happened with Rosindium. The hideout is still in working order- even after he is dead. No doubt the man worked for them, but I think that he was given orders by someone higher."

"Who?" Dwalin questioned. "I would like nothing more than a good fight right now, especially with whoever's responsible for this mess."

Balin shrugged. "We have no way to find out until they impenetrate the hideaway. Rosindium said that he will send word of how this whole mess turns out. Then brother- we can seek vengeance. But for now, we need to get Thorin to Erebor."

"And for what?" Dwalin hissed. "He's going to die either way."

"We don't know that."

"Yes, we do."

Balin sighed, letting his head rest in his hands. "Of all of the fates that he could have faced… why this?"

"I don't know…" Dwalin said. "But I'd do anything to reverse it."

/

"Best of luck to you- friends." Rosindium said, meeting each of their eyes and then resting on Hana's. "I will send word of Immelethrin's fate."

She nodded. "Thank you."

The sun was just barely cresting the horizon, and it was bitterly cold as they were going further into the Greenwood. The elves had packed their things and were waiting to go. This would be- it seemed- their last meeting.

His eyes lingered sympathetically on her, but did not glance at Thorin- for it would be unwise to anger the dwarf again.

"Ride hard, and tell me when you arrive, if only to put my heart at ease." He said, mounting his horse.

"We will." Balin responded.

As the elves departed, Thorin grudgingly moved to the cart where he was to spend the majority of the day bundled up in blankets and ignoring the heavy jerking as the wooden wheels crashed against rocks. Hana moved to mount her own pony, but Oin stopped her.

"If you would steer the oxen from now on," He started, "I need to monitor Thorin as this illness progresses, staying with him would be the wisest way to go about it."

"I will." She agreed, getting up to pull the reigns of the oxen, careful to keep them on the smoothest trail to avoid any discomfort to him, although that was hard, for trails in the Greenwood were hardly what anyone could call 'smooth'.

They traveled in silence for the longest time. Her pony now carrying the majority of their packs as Balin and Dwalin rode up ahead. Trees and landforms passed, some of which she recognized from her imprisonment with the dwarf prince. She pursed her lips- she was going home now yes, but would it really be home without him? It seemed as if every good memory that they shared had been laced with melancholy, and every bad memory that they shared had a silver lining. She glanced back for a moment at Thorin who leaned against the side of the cart. He was looking right back at her, and they shared a tender smile before she brought her eyes back to the road.

/

**Is this hurting yet? ;) I love writing angst more than anything, but as I continue to write I find that my story is drawing nearer and nearer to an end, and it's bittersweet. Does anyone have any idea of how I should end this? Or should I just have Hana go with the company and stick her in the events of "The Hobbit," as the fifteenth member in the quest for Erebor? (like that hasn't been done before) But I honestly only see about ten chapters left AT MOST for this fic… unless there anything you guys want to happen? Anything I left out that I need to wrap up? (mind you I still have a few things to add in) and suggestions would be great, and I would love to write any idea you have, because all of this college is making my writer's block INTENSE. Please give me some input- you guys are awesome for reading. **

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	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty Two: Playing the Part

"My Lord, I bring tidings from the west." A voice, low and dark came from the doorway to the courtyard. Walking amongst the dead grass and marble statues was a man- a large one, with strikingly white hair and icy skin that seemed to stretch over his very bones. He wore a cloak, a simple brown one- and to anyone's first impression, he would be an average man, a very pale and leery one, but still average.

What gave it all away though was the tattoo.

It was elongated from his chin to his right temple. The runes spoke of destruction, death, and misery; painted with snakes weaving their way through the letters and striking darkly against his pale skin. This man was a man of evil, and that could not be denied.

"Dradun, what has become of Thorin, son of Thrain? Have you received my ransom?"

"My Lord," said the Dradun, who was dwarfed by the other man, who stood far taller than most of the peoples in Middle Earth. "I fear to tell you that the mission for Thorin's ransom was a failure."

"Is that so?" the man questioned, picking the browning leaves from a hedge.

Dradun nodded furiously, black hair flying in all directions, "But I think the alternative outcome will bring you satisfaction, Thorin is dead."

The tall man grinned wickedly as he sifted his fingers through the hedge. "An explanation- Dradun."

"Undomner has poisoned him with a mixture that is invincible. He will die within the coming weeks."

"Good- very good." said the blonde man. "And what of your pet? Has she brought anyone to their doom of late?"

"Immelethrin of the Southern desert, and Balin son of Fundin- when the time is right."

The man turned, eyebrows up in soft disbelief. "Your actions please me, Dradun."

The smaller man bowed slightly. "Thank you- sir."

"Come now, you can call me by my name- you have done me a great justice, after all."

Dradun nodded tentatively, "Ethir."

The larger man made his way over to the pond, which was surrounded by white rocks and filled with a variety of fish, a waterfall coming through the crack in the stone wall behind and spilling into the small crevice in the earth. He stared into the water, watching the man who stared back. "I have seen something, something that has not yet come to pass, but will."

"Sir?"

Ethir turned, eyes dangerously narrowed as his words came out like waves from the eye hurricane. "There is a girl, one whom Thorin has grown fond of, and she has grown fond of him in return."

Dradun shook his head. "My son assured me she would be dead-" but he cut his sentence off, almost clapping a hand over his mouth in the realization that he had been interrupting.

"There _is_ a girl; Hana of the Goldbeard clan is her name. I have looked into her future, and I have seen her- she will grow in strength and wisdom. She will become a major disadvantage in our plans." He took up his staff and began to stride towards Dradun. "I spoke to your son- although he may not have spoken to you. I told him to kill her at all costs, even if her ransom is paid, and he tried- oh he did."

Dradun paled, but did not flinch as his master approached.

"That roach of a boy failed, and she is out there- on the loose. If we do not take her down now our future will be…limited."

The smaller man swallowed. "In all respects sir, what could she possibly do to us? To you? We have the mightiest forces on our side."

Ethir closed his eyes for a moment, his body growing completely still. "Half man, half dwarf, there is no heart in Middle Earth like hers. Hana has is not as ignorant as the rest of her people. She knows when to give up and when to strategize, something that the dwarves of Erebor have never considered before. If Thror is to discover this, if she is to be his advisor, then her wisdom combined with the armies of the Lonely Mountain will be a force unstoppable. She will erase the faults, and she will bring them victory. Dradun, we cannot afford Erebor to rise in power any longer, not with what we have planned."

"I will kill her- sir." He said quickly. "I will set out now."

"No, you fool." He sneered. "She is obviously not so easily killed, did your son not drown her? Did your elf not suffocate her? Did your own henchmen not poison her? She has immunities, she has power from the mutation in her blood, that and the wizard."

"Wizard?"

"Do you think that Gandalf the Grey only brought her back to life? He has the power of foresight, though not as strong as mine, there are still things he can sense. He blessed her then with a gift, a power that will stretch out her life until her task is complete, if only I could understand what that task is."

"So she's nearly invincible?" Dradun asked, blinking. "How on earth will we kill her?"

Ethir grinned again, his grey teeth and cracked lips giving Dradun the urge to cringe. "…a warrior with wisdom and power, one who cannot easily die and who holds the heart of one of the most influential people in the east? It is not a matter of killing her- Dradun." His voice lowered. "It is a matter of using her."

/

Thorin had been hungry before, he had skipped out on meals when he was busy or forgotten to eat in the mornings, yes he had been hungry, but not like this.

He got plenty of fluids, water constantly going down his throat in an effort to stall the ache that consumed his stomach, although he knew that the more he drank, the more poison washed into his system. His case was a hopeless one.

He had been given broth and even milk if they went by a trade post, which was technically sustenance, but not enough, especially for him.

He tried to ignore the fact that his elbow bones stabbed at his sides, or that he felt so weak that he could hardly walk. They would be making it to Erebor any day in the next week, and he had two more weeks to go, if he was 'lucky'.

The cart rolled back and forth against the hallowed road, jarring him this way and that each time they hit a particularly harsh patch of rock. They had been riding unceasingly, stopping for a few hours of rest a night, and even then he would not be allowed to move from the wagon. After the first few days of Oin riding in the cart with him the elder dwarf declared that there was nothing he could do for Thorin, and traded places with Hana throughout the journey when it came to steering the oxen. Eventually however, Oin had taken over the driving completely, which Thorin was grateful for. He loved Hana, he really did, but the pains in his gut mixed with her horrible steering had made him wish he was dying sooner.

_Besides, _he thought with a small smile as she exhaled against his shoulder, _I prefer her by my side._

The two had come to an agreement that they would not acknowledge his inevitable death- that they would treat each other as if everything was normal, as if everything was fine. It helped, it really did, that no one really mentioned his fate. Balin and Dwalin simply spoke to him of political affairs and shared stories from their travels. Oin had not said much, he never really did. And Hana? Well they had returned to their normal pattern of conversation. Contemplating irrelevant matters and musing about things in which they had no control over.

But no one mentioned what would happen when they would return.

He didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to face it- the fact that he had two weeks left in Middle Earth and at the end of those two weeks, he would be buried in the ground and everyone would get on with their lives. Soon he would be a passing memory, they would think of him with nostalgia and perhaps even sadness, but nothing more. Balin, Dwalin and Oin would move on. Frerin would get the throne and Fili would never remember his uncle's face. And Hana…

He glanced over at the dirty mass of blonde hair and freckled face. She was leaning against the back of the cart, quite asleep, with a blanket pulled around her shoulders to block out the winter chill.

Thorin looked down at his own bundle of furs and various shawls that covered him. He picked one off, the heavy warg pelt, and laid it around her shoulders. She jumped the moment the fabric touched her, eyes searching the area in panic until they landed on him. She relaxed in relief.

"It's good to see you, Thorin, son of Thrain." She said with a hint of a grin as she pulled the pelt around her and leaned against him. He was grateful for the added warmth, for his body seemed to be made of paper.

She was soon sleeping again, letting out borderline snores against his collar bone. Ignoring the pain that wrenched through his gut, he simply leaned his head back against the side of the cart, hoping the fatigue would take him, and soon enough- it did.

/

Hana did not move when she awoke, simply laid limp against his chest, breathing in deeply and watching the white puffs that moved from her when she exhaled.

If she sat with him a week before, the mere mass of the dwarf would be the equivalent to a furnace, but now he was beginning to look much like he did when Fradun had held them for ransom- his cheekbones protruding and the sinews overly visible on his hands. Now she was keeping _him_ warm.

Turning to gaze about, she realized that it was quite dark outside. She sat up carefully, as to not wake the prince beside her. They had stopped in a clearing, a small fire crackling in the distance with three dwarf shadows sitting around it. She moved the various furs so that way they would cover Thorin completely, and then arose and made her way to the fire. Upon approaching Balin looked up.

"Nice of you to join us, miss."

Hana blushed a bit, taking a seat next to Dwalin who handed her a bowl of chunky stew. She picked through it with her spoon but did not find anything to be appealing. She was not in the mood for food; she was not in the mood for anything really.

"Is he sleeping?" Oin asked, and she nodded.

"That's good." The dwarf said. "It will not be long before the hunger pains keep him awake at night. I pity him; this way to die is not a way I would wish upon anyone."

The group sat in silence, Hana staring at her feet, wishing that she was smaller, weaker. Maybe she could just disappear, because something that did not exist did not feel pain.

"The forest of Greenwood is thinning." said Balin, "Two days, I would say. At least then he will have a warm bed and the company of his family."

"What company?" Dwalin grunted. "It's not as if Thror cares for him in the least. He would rather count his gold than attend to his dying grandson."

"Dwalin!" Balin hissed, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "We do not speak of our king in such a manner!"

"I don't care!" Dwalin's voice rose. "He is not my _king_, not anymore. His mind has grown weak and sick- you can see it, I can see it, anyone within trading distance can see it! He chose gold over his grandson and he'll do it again. He has no love for Thorin and no love for his people."

"_That is enough_!" Balin shouted; causing everyone else to jump as silence splintered the night air. "You will speak no more of such matters, lest I cut out your tongue. Do you understand me- _brother?_"

Dwalin stood not saying a word, his stinging glare resting on Balin. The dwarf huffed and stocked off into the night, leaving the remaining trio in an awkward silence.

"Don't try to reason with him." Balin said as she got to her feet. "He's far too young and reckless to know the way of the world."

Despite this she found herself walking towards where he had gone, hoping to find a trace of the large dwarf in the darkened wood. "Dwalin!" she called, stepping over plants and between branches. The small company could not afford any tensions at the moment, not with the strains already pulling at their seams.

"Over here." came the response from her left, and she turned to see him sitting against an oak, a sneer on his face.

"If you have some 'words of wisdom' for me, you can save it. I've had enough of a sage's advice."

"I do not." she said simply, not stepping towards or away from him. "I just wanted to make sure you that you had not left us."

Dwalin grunted in a half laugh. "Where would I go? Balin is annoying, yes, and blinded by his loyalty to Thror, but I belong with my people. "

"Shall we return to camp?" she questioned, but Dwalin shook his head, a twinkle in his eye. "You can, but I'll stay here for a while, if only to irk him."

Hana laughed a bit, and wandered back towards the fire, albeit a little quickly. The woods were not welcoming to her at night.

"He's alright?" Balin questioned, and Hana nodded, "He will be fine."

"Take this to Thorin, would ye?" Oin asked, holding out a bowl that had been filled to the brim with broth, but nothing else, save he become sick.

She took the bowl and wooden spoon and carefully made her way to the wagon. "Thorin," she called softly. "I've brought you some food…"

She set the bowl carefully on the rim of the cart, as a strange shaking overtook insides. The wagon was empty.

Immediately she delved into the forest, trying to make sense of what poor light she had. "Thorin!" she called, fear croaking in her throat as she ran through the bushes, "Thorin!"

She stilled when a distant cough and then gasp filled the air. She rushed towards the sound, ignoring the branches that tore at her clothes and face as she shoved herself through the brush, eventually coming into a clearing that surrounded a trickling stream.

Thorin was crippled on his knees, foodless vomit floating down river as he rested his head in his hands. She moved towards him, "Thorin?"

"I just wanted to wash my face." He mumbled, his shoulders shaking. Hana put a hand on his back as she came down next to him, but he moved away as if her touch stung. "That's all I wanted to do, but then I got dizzy and… and…"

He collapsed into another fit of coughs, and Hana brushed a hand through his hair, this time however, he did not move away. "It's alright, Thorin." She said quietly, rubbing circles into his back in hopes of soothing his coughs. "I am here now, you will be alright."

He didn't look at her, just continued to stare into the waters, every feature on his face more visible due to his losing of weight and the powerful moonlight.

"C'mere." She said, pulling off her over-shirt and dipping it into the cool waters, she turned his face towards her. Slowly, she brought the cloth up to wipe away the dirt, grime, and all evidence of the past week's hardships from his cheeks.

"I heard Dwalin talking about my grandfather." He said quietly, and she closed her eyes for a moment at his words. "Your family loves you Thorin, you have no need to doubt that."

She wiped away the sweat on his brow and the blood caked onto his chapped lips. "You really do need to stop biting those." She murmured, gently brushing her thumb against the torn skin.

She wetted the cloth again, and then moved it down the expanse of his chin and neck, cleaning away what had built up over the past week until finally, his face was spotless. She hung her shirt up on a tree branch to dry, and then came back to sit by Thorin.

"You scared me deathless." She said quietly. "You really should tell me before you leave, or tell _someone _at least."

"I did not want to be a burden." He mumbled, going to bite his lip but favoring instead for the pad of his thumb. "I've been nothing but a weight these past weeks. I only wish that this poison was working faster."

"Stop it." She said; her voice low and serious, surprising even her, but she didn't take her words back, only glared into his misty grey eyes. "Don't you dare say things like that, not out loud, not to me."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, and Hana only shook her head, gently taking his hand as she stood, hauling him to his feet as well. He leaned against her the entire way back, and Hana was astonished that he had made it to the stream on his own at all.

"It is cold now." She said as she handed Thorin the simple brew after she had settled him in the blankets. The dwarf prince took it from her regardless, tossing away the spoon and drinking the entirety of the broth before putting the bowl aside as well. His face was strained and he looked as if on the verge of breaking, although he hid his pain well.

"I doubt that I should sleep tonight." He said as she settled next to him, pulling the furs far above them to block out the cold. Hana sighed heavily, taking his hand into both of hers. "I'll stay up with you then, if you want."

"Really?"

Hana let out a chuckle. "Oh yes, I've been _dying _to discuss the deep meaning of Dwalin's mowhawk ever since this morning."

He laughed, and that made everything a little bit better.

/

It was about noon on the next day when they were ambushed.

At first Hana almost went into a rage. Not out of defense, but because she could absolutely not believe that their trip could get any worse than it was.

Then an arrow hit the side of the cart and several more buzzed to and fro as Oin dove down for the coverage of the wagon wall. Hana peered over the edge and cursed. "Orcs."

Twenty were approaching from the foliage on their right, sneering and spitting and positively vile. She reached for her sword, already standing up, but Oin gripped her wrist. "You must stay here." He commanded.

"What?"

"Protect Thorin!" was all he said as he jumped the edge of the cart, swinging his staff wildly at the oncoming orcs, Dwalin and Balin joining him.

"What's going on?" Thorin mumbled as he became fully awake. Hana grabbed him by the shoulders and laid him onto his back, covering him with his multiple blankets. Thorin finally seemed to wake and tried to sit up, but Hana shoved him down again, pinning his shoulders to the wooden floor of the wagon as she leaned above him. "We are under attack." She said quietly, peering over into the foliage to see that Balin, Dwalin and Oin were fighting quite well, "This should be over soon."

Hearing footsteps, she turned to see a few more approaching from behind, one of them spotted her, and they advanced.

"Stay here," she said, and when he began to protest she kissed his forehead. "Please."

Grabbing and unsheathing her sword, Hana jumped from the cart to meet their enemies head on. There were five orcs, each considerably taller than her and clad in heavy armor. Taking a breath, Hana readied her weapon; she was not as helpless as she once was. At least- that was what she was trying to convince herself of.

The first one was easy, he was far too eager to strike her to really focus on his swing, so she sidestepped and latched her sword into his back, then kicked him away. The next was not as much, he had a faster disposition, so Hana found herself dodging and blocking as quickly as she could, only to miscalculate slightly as his blade bore into the skin of her arm. She hissed, but continued fighting nonetheless. Black blood soaked the handle as she lodged the sword in his gut, pulling it away to let the creature fall to the ground.

Dwalin was at her side, swinging violently at the next two that approached, and Hana was grateful for that. She was going to help when a grunt came from her side, and she turned to see another smaller orc approaching.

With a shout he raised his sword, and Hana was barely able to roll out of the way. She turned swiftly only to catch his blade against hers, and then twisted it sharply so that it flew from his hands. The orc growled, advancing towards her with fists readied. He swung, and she used that opportunity to slice off his hand, and as the he fell to his knees in pain, she finished the job by cutting his throat.

Things grew silent as she examined the battlefield. Twenty orcs lie dead; Dwalin, Balin and Oin were a little dirty and bloody, but overall well.

"They seem to have infested this land." Balin said as they all came to stand in a circle. Hana was vaguely aware of Oin taking her cut arm and blotting a cloth against it with some sort of stinging ointment. He then wrapped it in bandages.

"It would be best if we don't rest until we get into the open."

"Agreed." Dwalin said, "Oin, Hana, get back to the cart. Balin, lead the way."

The old dwarf glared at his brother for a moment, but said nothing, only turned on his heel to approach his pony.

Hana wasted not a second getting to the cart, she found Thorin still on his back, right where she had left him.

"What in Durin's name happened?" he questioned, trying and failing to sit up. He was far too weak now to move, he was far too weak now for anything, and he still had at least ten days.

"Orcs," She grumbled, sheathing her sword and tossing it aside, "about twenty. They're gone now, no one's hurt."

"I wish I could fight." He growled. "I want to protect you. I want to play my part- More than anything."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, coming to lie at his side, she let her hand brush through his beard as the other reached for his, entwining his cold fingers with her warm ones, her head fell against his shoulder as she tried to regain her breathing, adrenaline still pumping through her veins.

/

**Another chapter- I can't believe I've got this far! I don't have much to say other than; I apologize for the angst, please read and please review! I love you guys for reading this far! Stay tuned next time for the company's return to Erebor!**

**Dearreader, as always I love your input! I already know how I want this story to end. I will stay true to the book as in having Thorin die in the aftermath of the Battle of Five Armies, "if they get married and have any happiness. Rare in any Thorin fic. Early painful death seems much preferred**." **That comment really just made my day :D ! I shan't end this story with an early death, that's the most I can promise you. But what I meant to get at in my Author's Note in the last chapter is that I see the end of this story coming quickly, so my main question to my readers and to you was, is there anything you feel that I'm missing? Anything that you think I should add or questions that need to be answered? (I will address most of them in upcoming chapters) I'm sorry for sounding vague, thanks for reviewing! **

**-Infinityscripts**

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	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty Three: Swallowed in the Sea

When they made it to Erebor he could not move.

The road back was considerably smoother after they had cleared the Greenwood- the bumps and jolts eventually dissolving into slight tosses every now and again. Thorin laid on his back, furs pulled up to his chin and Hana sitting against the wall of the wagon somewhere at his left, not far away. He couldn't sit up, he couldn't turn his head, he barely had the energy to reach out his hand, and even then she was the one who took it, intertwining their fingers so it rested in the furs on her lap. He didn't see her, but he could feel her, and that's all that he really cared about at the moment.

In those last hours he focused on the feeling of her thumb brushing over his knuckles, and of her left hand shielding his from the cold. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, but he never slept. He just lay there as his body decomposed, eating at its own muscle as his organs, slowly becoming dysfunctional. He hadn't said it hurt, not yet. He didn't plan too, he was already ashamed at his current state, and did not want any of them to take pity on him. He wanted to be his own person in his last days.

Hana's hands kept his warm, which he was grateful for. The feeling of her fingers between his was what kept him anchored, knowing that yes, he was still alive, and yes, he still had something to live for. At least then, insanity would not win over.

The sky above was cloudless, the sun shining through making everything a little warmer despite the snow that fell onto his face and the wind that howled about.

Thorin had come to a strange acceptance of his death. He was not happy by any means, but he figured that if there was no way to reverse it, he might as well make the most of the time he had left- even if that time was spent wasting away in a bed.

Eventually Hana drew near and helped him to lean on his elbows so that she could give him a drink from the water satchel. By the time he was finished, he would have fallen back down from the effort, except she was there to catch him, and he simply leaned his back against her chest, letting her warmth envelope him as her hands came around to lay on his torso. He felt a deep sigh move through her body from behind.

"You alright?"

She laughed a bit, resting her chin on the top of his head. "Do you think me to be?"

He frowned, "I am sorry."

"Don't be," she said, pulling him a little closer, his hand coming up to rest on her forearm. "All will be well."

Silence rang out as he let his eyes fall shut. By no means was he going to be able to sleep, but it didn't hurt to try, and Hana was much more comfortable than the wooden floor of the cart.

"What is it like in Dale?" he asked as she pulled the blankets up over them.

"Hmm," she started out, "Let me see… loud, very loud. Everyone is talking and greeting each other and eager to make conversation. Everyone seems to know each other, and if they don't then they make friends."

"It sounds busy."

"It is," she agreed as her hands came up to absentmindedly braid a piece of his hair, "There's all sorts of folk, old men, young men, children, dwarves', even a few elves if you look hard enough. Like you said, it's busy. Extremely so, there's all sorts of vendors and craftsmen and entertainers; it's basically the trade capital of the east. I've even met Hobbits from the Shire."

He looked up at her. "The Shire?"

"It is far away, in the west." She said softly, warm breath ghosting against his face. "There's little folk there, about our size, but they are nothing like dwarves. Usually lazy and mild tempered, but good in the long run. Few of them ever visit Dale, most seem quite content to stay at home."

Thorin hummed for a moment, a low, quiet song that he remembered somewhere from his childhood- he only got half way through however, before he became exhausted and gave up.

To his surprise however, Hana began to hum, the sound vibrating through her chest and into him as she finished the song. She was horribly out of tune, but he still felt himself smile.

Quiet overtook them, and soon enough he felt Hana's breathing even out and she fell asleep.

He dozed off for a few moments every now and again, but the ache that racked through his body would soon wake him up. They had run out of broth and milk long ago, leaving him to decay in silence. His head hurt, his teeth hurt. Every part of him hurt. He briefly, very briefly, considered talking to Oin, seeing if there was a potion he could take or something that he could do to die early. He still had at least a week, and he couldn't imagine bearing this burden another day, let alone seven.

"We're nearing the gates of the Lonely Mountain!" Oin turned and said to them. "Get ready to enter the city in the next few minutes."

Hana stretched for a moment as she tried to wake herself up, twisting her back and popping some joints, she moved away from Thorin to lace her boots and tie her cloak around her neck.

"We are home," she said, swatting his hand as he began to reach for his own boots. The dwarf woman helped him to sit against the wall of the cart, and then peeled back the blankets so that she could pull the boots onto him herself, although it took her a little longer to lace them, his feet were quite larger.

Shouts began to rise, and although Thorin couldn't turn he recognized some of the voices as those from the guard. The voices neared and grew louder, and as the cart slowed to a stop, he felt a small sense of panic arise in him.

"Hana," he said, and when she turned to look at him, he feebly outstretched his arm, and she immediately took his hand as she came to kneel beside him. "Don't leave me." He murmured, hating the weakness in his tone, "Please."

She leaned down to bestow upon him a gentle kiss, which seemed to be her favorite thing to do of late, and Thorin didn't mind in the least.

/

She supposed it didn't really matter that they got separated eventually. Hana had followed him around like a puppy as the medics brought out a stretcher and rolled him onto it. She had held his hand for as long as she could until someone had told her to leave, and even then she lingered for a few moments, making soft eye contact with Thorin before letting the medics walk away. Dwalin came up to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, lass." He said, shouldering his pack as they entered the gates of the city, Thorin being pulled away not far ahead, Balin and Oin fussing over him with each step. "You'll see him again."

"I doubt Thror would approve of me visiting, even if Thorin is dying." She said, biting her lip, attempting to hold back tears at the thought that she might have just said her final goodbye. To her relief, Dwalin shook his head. "No one is that much of a grouch. Even if he doesn't let you visit, I'll sneak you in."

Hana looked up, relief washing over her. "Really? Can you do that?"

"Aye!" said Dwalin, "I know this city like the back of my hand. I doubt that Thrain would be opposed to it though, Thorin doesn't have much longer on this earth, and there's no point in keeping his happiness away."

"Thank you Dwalin." She said, giving him an honest smile. He nodded. "Meet me over here tonight, at sundown I would say. I'll bring you to him."

Hana stared at her feet. It was hardly afternoon, she had seven or eight hours to kill. What on earth would she do?

"Go home and take a bath." Dwalin said, as if he were reading her thoughts. "It'll be much easier to sneak you in when you don't smell like the stables."

They shared a laugh and Hana thanked him again before taking off to the west of the city. It took a while to find her bearings, for she had been gone nearly half a year, but finally she found herself on the right street, and taking a few lefts and a right, she reached the door to her humble home.

She pulled on the handle, only to find it locked. Letting out a growl in exasperation, she peered through the window, only to find that every bit of furniture that had been in her house was gone. Puzzled, she stepped back a moment, eyes scanning the area until they landed on the large "FOR SALE" sign that rested just below her roof. Hana almost beat her head against the wall in frustration.

So she began to walk again, this time taking an extra right so that she was on her way to Bofur's house. She nodded at the few dwarves that she passed, and each gave her a confused look. Hana tried to imagine what she looked like at the moment, and almost laughed out loud. She could probably be smelled from a mile away.

Finally she reached the simple wooden door and pushed it open, thanking Mahal that this one wasn't locked. As she entered the quaint house she found that the lights were on, Bombur sat at the kitchen table eating (which wasn't much of a surprise) Bafur and Bambur were both playing in the front room with Bumble crawling around the floor. Hana almost leapt with joy, she hadn't realized how much she missed her family until those moments.

Bafur's head snapped up, and his already impossible big brown eyes grew even wider.

"Hana!" he shouted, getting to his feet and tumbling over to her, he proceeded to throw his arms around his neck and nearly knock her over. Another weight crashed into her knees that she could only guess was Bambur, and another into her waist that she assumed to be Bombur.

"I missed you little brothers." She said with a grin, giving Bafur a squeeze. The boy drew back to look at her. He poked her cheek, and then pulled her hair, eyes inquisitive. "Bofur said you weren't coming back."

"Oh?" she questioned, setting him down, and the boy nodded. "He told us that you were on a long trip and that you decided to stay in.. Roham? Doham? Wherever you were."

She laughed, picking Bambur up and balancing him on her waist as another hand ruffled Bombur's hair. "I was going to stay, but I decided not to. Is Bofur at the mines?"

"Yes," said Bafur, who very much did enjoy talking.

Heads turned at a cry that sounded from the other side of the room as the neglected Bumble began to sob. Hana set Bambur down and then went to swoop the baby into her arms. "He's gotten so big!" she exclaimed, giving the child a peck on the cheek. "You all have!"

"You've been gone for a long time." said Bafur, as Bombur and Bambur returned to their activities, both too young to sincerely understand the significance of her return. Bafur understood only slighty. Suddenly, the earlier of the three clapped his hands and jumped in the air, his face lighting up. "Guess what?"

Hana laughed. "What?"

"Bofur and Kenaii are getting married!"

The dwarf felt her jaw drop as Bumble made a cooing noise, yanking at her hair. "They're _what_?"

Bafur paused for a moment, looking to the side. "Well, I think they are. I hope so. I mean, they kissed, and Kenaii comes over all the time, she cooks for us! Just like Ma used to do!"

Immediately the room grew quiet, and Hana felt her heart drop in her stomach. "Ma…" she started, finishing the question silently.

Bafur nodded. "Yes…"

Hana bit her lip, running her hand through her hair. She knew that Breva would be dead, but that didn't mean she was ready for it to occur. Everyone that was important seemed to be dying. "So Bofur and Kenaii kissed?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. To her relief, Bafur's complexion changed and he began to giggle. "Ya," he said, "They kiss a lot."

"That's good." Hana said, putting Bumble back onto the floor to crawl around. "I knew that they would." Glancing around the room to find Bombur and Bambur totally uninterested in her, she began to move towards the stairs. "I'm going to go take a bath!" she said, mostly to Bafur. The younger dwarf nodded, going back to join Bambur with his toys.

Hana began to climb the stairs, but a little voice from below stalled her.

"Hana?" Bafur called, and she drew back a few steps to look at him. "Yes?"

"I missed you."

She smiled, "I missed you too."

/

He really shouldn't have been angry with her, he really shouldn't have. But when Bofur entered his house, exhausted and covered with coal, only to find Hana playing on the floor with Bambur and Bafur, he nearly dropped his pick axe in shock, in fact he probably did.

All heads turned to him, and Hana immediately got to her feet, bounding towards him in great leaps, but Bofur put a hand out to stall her. "Stay exactly where you are." He growled- his voice dangerously low.

The room grew eerily quiet, and Hana looked at him as if he had hit her, but he didn't care. He let his eyes dart over her, examining every last eyelash and freckle until he was sure that the girl standing before him was really his sister. Finally, he let his hand drop, although Hana did not step any closer.

"Bofur I-"

"_How dare you_," he started, voice ragged as he felt his emotions grow into a hurricane. "How dare you let me think you were dead?"

Hana look at her feet. "Well… I…"

"I _grieved." _The dwarf growled not bothering to remove the rage from his tone. "I grieved for you Hana. I cried, and I cried, and I cried…"

Before he was quite aware of what he was doing, Bofur pulled her towards him into a crushing hug, "Mahal, I missed you."

"I'm so sorry, Bofur." She said, hugging him back tighter. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Can we go on a walk?"

/

The street lamps were just being lit and Hana guessed that it would be sundown any time now. She walked quietly with Bofur after she had explained the long and strenuous events of her journey. The dwarf had interrupted a few times, mostly to chastise her for getting herself into trouble, or to raise an eyebrow when she mentioned Thorin. Hana considered leaving the dwarf prince out, but she hadn't much to lose, he would be gone soon after all.

"You're courting then? You and Thorin?" Bofur questioned, and Hana nodded tentatively. "We have been for some months now."

"And Thorin's dying." Bofur said, and Hana cringed a bit, he really didn't need to throw it in her face like that, or maybe he did, but either way it stung. "Yes," she said dryly. She felt Bofur's arm come around her shoulder in a feeble attempt at comfort, and Hana sighed, trying not to cry, there was no need to cry- crying never fixed anything, and yet…

"So according to Bafur, you and Kenaii are getting married." Hana said, hoping to change the subject. To her joy, the dwarf turned an interesting shade of red. "No, no… not quite."

"Not _yet_, anyways."

The younger dwarf rolled his eyes, and Hana laughed. "I'm just glad you waited until I returned. She really does make you happy then?"

His eyes came up to scan the road ahead, most of the dwarves were going home to their families, she would need to go find Dwalin soon. "Aye," said Bofur. "She's the only reason I really survived this mess; the only reason I'm still sane."

"Well there's only one thing to do then." She said, elbowing him slightly. "You must propose!"

Bofur glared at his feet. "I have nothing to give her. I can't afford to buy any jewelry at the moment, probably not until after I save for a year." Hana thought for a moment, it was custom to give your spouse to be a trinket upon engagement, whether that be a necklace or a hair pin or a button, just something that they wear at all times to show their devotion. Suddenly she had an epiphany.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, unlatching the pearl necklace from her throat and poring it into Bofur's blackened, sooty hands. "Breva gave this to me right before I left." She said quietly, rushing through their mother's name in an effort to dispel any onslaught of emotions. "I was instructed to give it to whomever you chose to marry, it's a family heirloom, your father's mother had it, and her husband's mother, and so on."

Bofur examined the pearl for a moment before putting it in his pocket, smile on his face. "Thank you, Hana."

She smiled at her brother, "Anything for you."

/

A knock came at the door; and Thorin raised his voice as loudly as he could manage, although it only ascended into a hoarse "Come in."

The door creaked open and in came his father, as strong and noble as always, but something had changed in his eyes. He looked like he was on the verge of explosion.

"It's good to see you my son." The king-in-line said, resting a hand on Thorin's shoulder. "I feared for your wellbeing these past months."

Thorin let out a harsh laugh. "Not as if it matters much now," his voice was deadpanned and sarcastic, but he didn't care. "How's Frerin? Ready to take over the throne yet?"

Thrain huffed, giving his son a dark glare. "We mustn't speak of such things. That isn't a matter until-"

"I die." He finished, "Next week it should be, so you better start his training."

"Stop it." Thrain hissed; his voice cracking. "Just _stop it._ It's bad enough that I have to lose my son, please, don't treat me like this, not in our last days."

Thorin immediately looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt overwhelm him. "I'm sorry Father." He said. "I do not feel well."

He nodded, coming to sit at the foot of his bed. "I would imagine so, is there anything we can do for you? Anything I can do to make you comfortable?"

Thorin pursed his lips, he felt as if he were an old man on his death bed, and half of that was true. "If you could have Dis visit me… Dis and Fili and Frerin, I would appreciate that." Thorin did not ask for his grandfather, for he did not want his last image of Thror to be a greedy, ill man. He wanted to imagine his grandfather as he once was, and take that to his death.

"I can." Said Thrain, and after a pause, "There's a… girl out there, a strange blonde dwarf. She has no beard…"

Thorin sat up a little straighter. "That's Hana." He said, meeting his father's unwaveringly. "She was with me when our company was killed. She was with me in Rohan; she's been with me this entire time." he looked away, and Thorin spoke a little sterner. "Father, we've entered a courtship."

He expected Thrain to get angry, confused, repulsed, he expected him to scoff and maybe even chastise him, but his father didn't. He simply nodded.

"Does she make you happy?"

Thorin nodded unsurely, wondering where exactly Thrain was getting at. "More than anything."

His father raised an eyebrow. "She _is_ a commoner, you know."

The prince held his head a little higher. "I know. Father… please, just let me be with her until the end of my days." When Thrain said nothing, he continued. "She is kind and gentle and strong, she's saved my life. She's not particularly rich or noble, and definitely not the equivalent in status to other dwarrowdams you would want me to be with, but I've never felt this way about any of them, about anyone really. Do not make us part… I beg you." He finished, the effort causing him to gasp for breath. To his surprise, Thrain smiled at him, tears sitting in his eyes but not falling.

"I will let you be with her my son, until the end of your days." He said, and Thorin felt his shoulder's sag in relief.

"Thank you."

Thrain looked at him for another moment, trying to express something without words… what did you say to a dying child?

"I will come back to visit every day." Thrain said as he stood, clapping a hand on his son's shoulder. "I will tell Dis and Frerin, they will come."

"Thank you, Father." Thorin said again, and Thrain reached for the door handle, only to stop for a moment, awkwardly turning to look at his son.

"Thorin," he said quietly, "I do love you, I really do."

Thorin felt himself be filled with a sense of peace. "I love you as well, father."

Thrain nodded and pulled the door, and not long after he left Hana quietly made her way in. She was clean, he noted, her hair and skin was spotless and she had changed her clothes as well. She muttered something to Thrain before shutting the door behind her.

"Hello…" she said softly, offering him a smile, Thorin smiled back.

"What did you say to him?" he wondered aloud.

Hana shrugged as she approached, coming to sit on the space between his hip and the edge of the bed. "He told me to be good to you, and I told him that I plan to do just that." She pursed her lips as he reached for her hand, for his had seemed unbearably cold ever since they were separated. Her freckled ones enveloped his, and he sighed at how right everything felt in those moments.

"He approves of you," Thorin said before he could stop himself, and Hana's head shot up. "What?"

The prince shrugged, "He _somewhat_ approves of you. He told me that I can court you, at least until…"

"Shh…" she said, running a hand through his hair, and Thorin relaxed into her touch. "We mustn't worry about those things. We still have the rest of our lives ahead of us."

Thorin sat up a little straighter. "Hana… you wouldn't do anything…when I die I mean, nothing to hurt yourself? You wouldn't try to do anything like that right?"

She shrugged again, not meeting his eyes. "It hardly matters what happens to me after you go."

He squeezed her hands, silently begging her to look at him. Her gaze didn't leave the floor. "Don't talk like that," he said, and when she didn't say anything, "Hana, for goodness sakes… look at me!"

She did look at him then, and he found himself getting lost in her features, trying to memorize every scar, every freckle, the exact depth of her blue eyes that were filled with tears. "Please," he said hoarsely. "Don't even think about it."

"Why not?" she questioned, voice ragged. "It's not as if I will ever love anyone again, as if anyone would ever love me. What point is there in living this life if I have to live alone?!" Her voice was broken, tears streaming down her cheeks as her shoulders began to shake. He enveloped her in his arms then, pulling her tight against his chest in an effort to stall the sobbing.

"Do you care about me Hana? Do you care about what I want?"

She sniffed, "Obviously."

"Then listen well." He said sternly. "I want you to stay with me, at least until I go. I want you to go to my funeral, and I want you to visit my grave. I want you to move on, to find happiness in your family and in your work. I want you to meet a dwarf, one who will take care of you and bring you happiness." He felt tears come to his own eyes, but he willed them away. "I want you to accept nothing less than the best, for the best is what you deserve. I want you to have children, and grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and I want you to live a long, peaceful life."

Her sobs became erratic now, and he pulled her a little tighter. "Could you do that for me?"

"No," she said between breaths, "I do not think I can."

He leaned his cheek against her head, screwing his eyes shut to keep anymore tears from falling. "Try to." He said quietly. "Promise me you will try."

She sighed, going limp against him. "I will try, but that is all I can promise."

"That is all I ask of you."

/

**GAWSH THIS IS SO SAD**

**So ya guys… I was supposed to be writing an essay and studying for my first US History test…. BUT I CHOSE TO WRITE THREE CHAPTERS INSTEAD! I broke my record today of 430 views in one day! I feel awesome! Please let me know what you think of my story. Thanks for reading… and I promise that things will get better soon! Next Chapter: be prepared to meet Dis, Fili, and Frerin, (but mostly Fili cause he's the cutest ;) ). See you all next week!**

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	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty Four: Circles

"Ma? Where are we going?"

Dis glanced down at her son, who at this point barely came up to her waist. His golden hair hadn't been braided since the other day, so it was quite the mess. He wore his night clothes and no shoes, tripping every now and again as she tugged him along towards Thorin's quarters; the princess's enlarged stomach making her gait painstakingly slow.

"We're going to see your Uncle, love." She said, trying to keep the worry and sadness that she felt from overcoming her voice. "He just came back from his trading mission."

"But Ma…" Fili said, rubbing his eyes. "Why are we doing it so early? The sun _just_ came up!"

Dis sighed, "He's just excited to see us," she said, slowing a bit as she reached the doors to her brother's chambers. The hall was completely silent, empty save a dwarf girl who leaned against the hall opposite his door. She wore her honey colored hair in one long braid down her back, and her bare face was sunken, as if she had not been eating or sleeping in some time. Dis looked at her for a moment, and as if the dwarf felt her glance, she turned to meet her eyes.

"Are you a healer?" the dwarf princess questioned as she approached, the girl simply shook her head.

"I'm a… friend of Thorin's." she said, and then nodding towards the door. "Oin is in there at the moment, if you were planning on seeing him I mean."

Dis raised an eyebrow, "Friend? He doesn't have friends." She said, ignoring the later part of the dwarf girl's statement. The blonde's cheek heated up a bit. "Well, I'm not sure what I am then."

"Where did you meet?" Dis wondered aloud, leaning against the wall herself as she realized that Oin may be a while. Fili said nothing, only grasping her skirts with one hand. It was strange to meet someone who claimed to know her brother on a personal level, save maybe Balin and Dwalin. She had never seen this girl before, with a freckled face that had no amount of hair. Thorin wasn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve. The prince didn't make _friends_; he was polite to the required extent, but no more or less. Dis had watched as different dwarf women attempted to court her brother, and it never proved well for them, either being ignored or declined without a second thought. So how on earth had Thorin made a friend? Let alone one who liked him enough to wait outside his door at this hour?

"I was on the trading expedition to Rohan as the metal specialist." She said, "Hana Goldbeard is my name."

"Hmm." Dis said, "Everyone on that expedition was killed off, I heard?"

"You heard correctly." said Hana. "Everyone save me. May I ask the pleasure?"

"Dis," said the princess. "My name is Dis, I am Thorin's sister."

The door creaked open, and an exhausted looking Oin came out. "How is he?" she asked, immediately deriving her attention from the strange dwarf woman. To her dismay, Oin shook his head.

"Not much hope, princess." He said, his eyes darting to her son for just a moment. "I think it be best if he explained the situation to you."

Dis nodded, feeling a lump come into her throat. "Come along Fili," she said, putting a hand on her sons back as they moved towards the door. She let her hand rest on the handle before turning around.

"Pleasure to meet you, Hana." She said, and the girl nodded. "As well as you, Dis."

Pulling open the door and ushering Fili inside, she let her eyes examine the room as it shut behind her. A basin with a cloth in it sat at Thorin's bedside table, with a fire roaring in the hearth, the dwarf prince sat curled up in his furs and sheets. He was awake, however, and motioned for them to come forward.

"How are you?" she questioned, and Thorin opened his mouth to reply, only to be silenced as Fili jumped onto the bed beside him.

"Uncle!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around the prince's neck. Dis shot him a glance, silently asking if she should restrain her son, but Thorin only smiled, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around his nephew.

"I missed you, Uncle!" Fili said, sitting back. Thorin grinned at him. "And I missed you! Haven't been getting into any trouble of late, have we?"

Fili shook his head vigorously. "No!" he said, but after a moment of biting his bottom lip. "Actually, a little bit."

Thorin let out an exaggerated gasp that Dis couldn't help but laugh at. "What did you do?!" he questioned, and Fili looked at his lap guiltily.

"I put a snake in the lady's privy."

Thorin looked up at Dis, and she simply shrugged. It was true, her son was indeed the prankster, often getting her into trouble with Thrain, Thror, and other nobles, but she didn't really care, he was her sunshine.

Her brother let out a deep laugh, "Glad to know you've been productive my boy." Thorin's eyes grew a little downcast, and he drew her son into another hug, in which Fili responded to awkwardly. "Uncle, you're strange."

"I know." said Thorin, letting go of the child. "Why don't you go outside and let me talk to your mother for a bit? I'll tell you about my adventure another time."

"Alright!" Fili agreed, jumping off the bed, unaware of how the movement made his Uncle's face twist in pain. Dis watched her son scuttle over to the door, "I'll be right outside Ma!" he said before shutting it behind him. It was quiet for a moment, and the dwarfish princess slowly turned to look at her brother.

He was thin, extremely so. His eyes seemed to bulge from his skull, the same silvery-blue as always. His face was gaunt, his skin seeming to be stretched over the very bones of his cheeks and jaws. Large purple half-moons claimed the area beneath his eyes, and he was excessively pale. She could see his shoulder bones through the fabric of his shirt, as well as his hips through that of his trousers. She gulped.

"Do I not look handsome?" he asked- his tone sarcastic. Dis shook her head in exasperation.

"Utterly and purely," she mumbled, drawing nearer to her brother's bedside. "Mahal, you're sick."

"Sick and dying." Thorin added. "Did father not tell you?"

"He did," said Dis, running a hand through her ridiculously thick hair. "How long?"

The prince shivered, pulling his blankets up to his chin. "Any day now."

"Thorin…" she started quietly, coming to sit on the edge of his bed, taking some time to find her balance with her growing stomach. "I'm sorry." She said, "I really, truly am."

"Sister," he said, bringing his now boney hand up to brush the side of her face. "Don't be."

/

"My Ma's having a baby." said the little boy who sat on the floor not far away, legs crossed as he drew patterns there. Hana smiled, "So you are going to have a sibling?"

"Yeah," said Fili, grinning, "But I want it to be a boy, because girls are scary."

The dwarf woman raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Fili let out an exaggerated sigh, making a big show out of rolling his eyes, and Hana couldn't help but wonder if this was what Thorin was like when he was a child.

"Well, they yell a lot. At least my ma does. And she _always_ knows when I'm lying, and she _always_ makes sure I wash after playing outside." Fili drew a large circle on the floor with his finger, and then a smaller one inside of it. "Besides, girls don't like to play swords, and I do."

"I like to play swords!" Hana defended, coming to join the little dwarf on the ground and draw some circles of her own. She would be leaving to work at Dale later that day, so she had come in early to visit Thorin. She wanted to spend every last minute she could with him, of course- but her family was struggling to put meals on the table before she returned, and they were struggling after.

"Do you wanna play swords?" Fili questioned, jumping up, "Do you? Can we? I haven't played swords in _forever!_"

"Sure," she started, standing up and dusting herself off. "We just need to get some swords first."

Fili grinned widely, "I can run back to my room and-"

"Nephew!"

Both of their heads turned to see a dwarf coming from the right wing of the hall, and Hana's jaw nearly dropped. It was Thorin, or at least an exact replica. The same hair, shape, voice- the thing that gave it away was his beard, grown out long and braided intricately, something that would take hours to do in the morning. Thorin had no time for such things, so he had kept his beard shorter, adorned with a simple bead. She wasn't sure of whom this was, although she did have a few ideas.

"Hello Uncle!" waved the little boy as the dwarf drew near. Hana felt her assumptions become true, this was Frerin, brother of Thorin and Dis, and son of Thrain.

The dwarf's eyes glanced her way, but they were not Thorin's burning stare, they were relaxed, like the ocean after a storm.

"Who's this Fili?" he questioned, eyeing her up, Hana stood her ground.

The boys hand shot up, finger pointed at her, "This is…what's your name?"

"Hana of the Goldbeard clan." said she, granting Frerin a nod. "I am a friend of your brother's."

The prince snorted. "Thorin doesn't have friends."

She raised an eyebrow, "And yet I am here."

"True, true." said Frerin, he then gestured towards the door to Thorin's quarters, "May I enter, oh friend of Thorin?"

Hana opened her mouth, unsure what to make out of that sentence. Had she angered him? Or was he joking?

"Ma's in there." Said Fili, and almost as if on cue, the door opened a moment later, Dis emerging in all of her princess glory neither shaky nor red eyed. _Did __anyone__ have emotions in this family?_

Hana watched a silent exchange between sister and brother as they met eyes. The mirth that was in Frerin's left as he looked at her helplessly and Dis only nodded, causing the earlier to bite his lip in worry, a trait that he seemed to share with his brother.

"I will go and see him now," the prince announced, not really meeting any of their eyes as he entered Thorin's quarters.

A silence filled the hall which Fili soon interrupted. "Ma, can I go and get the swords?" he questioned, tugging at Dis's skirts. "Hana said she'll play swords with me."

The princess met Hana's eyes, as if silently asking if that was alright, and the later only smiled and nodded.

"Run along then." Said Dis, patting Fili on the head as he began to scuttle down the hall, and they watched him go.

"I asked him about you." Hana's attention snapped to the dwarf princess who currently addressed her.

"Pray he didn't say anything too frightening."

Dis chuckled, shaking her head so that her long black locks swished around her waist. "No, no, he didn't say anything too frightening. Quite the opposite if you ask me, he said you two were in a courtship?"

Hana felt her cheeks grow red, so the secret was out then? Not that there was much use in keeping it secret. Thorin would be gone before he had to live down the shame of loving her. "We are…" she started awkwardly, not wanting to oppress or offend. She had heard the rumors of the intensity of Dis's rage, and did not want to receive the brunt of it.

"The luck of the Gods" said the princess, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Thorin _finally_ finds someone to court and it's when he's on his death bed."

Hana raised an eyebrow at this, "He's never courted anyone before?"

Dis snorted in laughter, leaning on her heels as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Thorin is about as friendly as molten rock to those outside of his family or the diplomacy. Father's been trying to find him a dwarrowdam for years, while I'm already married and Frerin courts nonstop. I have to ask you, how _did _you do it?"

The blonde dwarf shrugged a bit, feeling a grin crack on her face, "I'm not sure how he came to like me; I'm not sure why he still does. All I know is that I'm lucky to have him."

The princess smiled then, a real genuine smile that reminded Hana of Thorin's, the one that he reserved solely for his closest friends, and only when he thought they weren't looking. "Even if it is late...I am glad that he has someone to love," said Dis, "I really am."

In those moment's Hana felt as if her heart was frayed at the edges, like an old piece of parchment. She could only imagine the bonfire that would rage when Thorin actually passed.

"I love him." said Hana, hearing her voice crack. "Mahal, I love him."

Before she was sure what was going on, she felt herself being pulled into a hug by the older dwarf woman, and Hana awkwardly reciprocated it, grateful for the comfort still.

A door opened and Frerin appeared, his demeanor honorable but his eyes red a puffy, so Thorin's siblings did have some feelings after all. The prince glanced at her, and Hana felt a bit of her break at the sadness she saw there.

"He's all yours."

Hana nodded, moving to the door, offering Dis a small "Thank you," before she entered.

Thorin lay on his side in his bed, curled into a ball beneath the heavy quilts, he was shaking slightly. Immediately the dwarf woman rushed to him, running her hand across his shoulder. "What is it?"

The dwarf princes eyes shifted to her, "Cold…" he mumbled.

Hana searched the room for more blankets, but found that all were piled onto the prince. A fire roared in the hearth, and she went to throw a few more blocks on before slipping onto the bed beside him. He said nothing, only scooted over to her so that she could throw an arm over him, doing whatever she could to warm the prince.

They lay like that for the longest time, not really saying anything as she breathed him in. He still smelled the same, his voice was still the same, and his eyes were still the same. Hana decided to focus on those instead of his rapidly decaying body. She felt his breath move through her hair like a warm wind, and the prickliness of his beard scraped against her cheek.

"I like your family," she said, not really asking a question because she was not sure that he wanted to talk. "Fili's adorable."

"He takes after his uncle," she heard him rumble and she laughed into his shirt, trying to ignore how his bones jabbed at her.

"Hana."

She pulled back, making sure that she could look into his eyes, and immediately feeling sick when she saw that they were raw and red, tears streaming down his cheeks. "What is it?" she questioned, coming up to hold his face in her hands, his own boney hand coming to rest on hers.

"I do not want to die." He whispered.

"And I do not want you to." She whispered back feebly, wishing that she had some profound words of wisdom and comfort to grant the dwarf, but she didn't. She could only hold his hand until it was over.

Hana wasn't sure why, but she kissed him then. Not that the simple act of pressing her lips against his would help this situation at all, but it did help her forget for just the smallest amount of time.

They pulled apart, and Thorin pressed his forehead to hers, his hand coming to rest on the crook of her neck. "In another life Hana, we would be together." He said- an empty ache in his voice. "In another life, we would be alright."

Hana shook her head. "Not so," she whispered back. "We _are_ together. And we _are_ alright." Her thumb drew circles on his cheek, much in the way that Fili did so on the ground. "And I love you, and there will be no illness, nor death that will change that."

"In the next life then?" he questioned, and she nodded. "In the next life."

/

Hana had a hard time going back to work.

Sure, the cold and lack of customers made it difficult as it was, but the thing that killed her from the inside out was the fact that Thorin could die at any moment, and she would not be there to say goodbye.

Hana's eyes scanned the marketplace, watching every person that walked by in an attempt to distract herself from the ugly truth. Her heart stopped in her gut, however, when they rested on a particular woman with long silvery hair, and a loose green dress. The woman offered her a wicked smile, and then ducked out of sight.

She didn't close up shop; she didn't even lock away the products. Hana simply stood and began to walk, and then run, to where she had seen the old woman. When arriving and finding that the space was empty, she headed down a nearby alleyway and tried to find the darkest corner, knowing that that was where she'd be.

"It's been a while, eavesdropper."

Hana stopped dead in her tracks, turning to see none other than the wolf woman.

"What happened to Immelethrin?" she questioned, her voice level and low, not wanting to bring upon the creature's rage but not quite able to hold back her own. "What did you do to my friend?"

She shrugged. "It wasn't me who turned him mad, I simply transported him."

"Where?" Hana questioned desperately, "Where did you bring him?"

The taller woman waved her hand nonchalantly. "A lady never reveals her secrets. Besides, I have come for other reasons… Tell me; is it true that your one love currently lies dying in a bed?"

Hana's breath hitched in her throat. She clenched her fists, her nostrils flaring. "I. Will. Kill. You."

To her rage, the woman laughed. "It was not _me_ who poisoned him." She said, and then added, "You already killed the one who did," retrieving a small vial of clear liquid from her sleeve, she continued "But I _can _heal him."

Hana's eyes darted from the vial to the woman, and then to the vial again, he heart going over a thousand miles a second. Could she save him? Could Thorin live?

"How can I trust you?" Hana accused. "After all that you have done? All of the lives you've destroyed?"

The woman balanced the vial, letting it bounce between her knuckles, silver hair swaying in the wind. "Look at it this way, if you do not accept my help, he will die. If you do except my help, there is a chance that he will die," she grinned, "yet there is a chance that he will live."

Hana stared at her feet, mind mulling over the consequences of this action. She had a point. But could she really trust her? Especially after all that she did?

The woman was now walking around her in slow circles around the blonde dwarf. "If you really love him, you will choose the later."

"I know your ways." Hana said, "You will come later, you will kill me…"

"I did not kill Immelethrin!" the half wolf said, "I simply arranged a situation for my master to change him." Her voice lowered as she made another circle. "How selfish are you really? Not willing to sacrifice for his life?"

Hana's fingernails dug into her palms.

"He would do it for you."

She snapped, putting her arm out and pulling the sleeve back. "Fine." She said, "Mark me."

A knife appeared out of nowhere, and before Hana could say a word it was digging into her flesh, ripping the first few layers of skin from wrist to elbow. Not quite enough for her to bleed out, but definitely enough for her to bleed, and more importantly, to scar.

"Hurry now," said the woman, dropping the vial into Hana's waiting hands. "His life dims as we speak."

Hana clutched the liquid in her hands, not really bothering to respond to the woman.

And then she ran.

/

**Ta da! **

**Dearreader, you were indeed correct with your guess that Hana would make a deal with the skin changer, I thought about changing the story to keepya on your toes, but then I was like…nah…**

**Sorry this chapter took so long to post! BUSIEST WEEK EVER!**

**You guys are awesome for reading…and reviewing… and in general. You're great! Thorin will be okay soon enough, I promise!**

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	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty Five : Sacrifice and Suicide

Rosindium could not help the sweat that dripped down the back of his neck and soaked into his tunic. Something was very, very wrong.

The building was hidden enough, made completely out of wood and camouflaged with various foliage, it was fairly large. It could be mistaken for a rich man's holiday home, or a simple shack in the woods.

But they knew better.

"Sir?" Aradhelon asked from his side. The company had dismounted, the majority of them coming with him to investigate while a few of the stronger men stayed behind to watch over Immelethrin. He let his hand drop to the satchel on his side- ten bombs. The wood would burn easily enough, this operation seemed simple, and yet he couldn't shake the screaming feeling inside that he needed to leave, immediately.

"Let's go," he said, moving towards the building with stealth and secrecy, not making a sound as he motioned for his company to follow.

The windows were barred, but inside he could see a completely empty room, utterly derived of any furniture, painting, or statue of sort. He moved towards the door, unsettledness causing his hands to shake as he reached for the handle and turned- finding it to be surprisingly unlocked.

Rosindium swung it open, knife in hand. His assumptions through the window were correct- no one and nothing was inside. He entered, motioning for Aradhelon and the others to do the same.

When inside, he searched the area, inspecting every nook and cranny, "It can't just be empty." He hissed, running his hands along the walls. "Maybe it is?" Aradhelon suggested, bending down to search the floor, he let out an exclamation. "Sir!"

Rosindium came to kneel at his side, finding that on the floor was a simple metal handle, derive of any lock or key. That alone set of warning signs in his head. This was far too easy.

"I'm getting a bad feeling." His second in command murmured, and Rosindium nodded in agreement. "I think everyone is."

"Shall we just plant the explosives now?"

The auburn haired elf shook his head. "There could be people down there, innocent people."

Rosindium's fingers came to wrap around the handle, and he pulled up.

Below the trap door was a set of old stairs, leading into the pitch dark. "Does anyone have a lantern?" he questioned, and then thanked the elf who promptly handed him one.

Rosindium took a breath, stilling his heart and clutching the handle of his sword a little tighter, he began to descend. "Onward, friends."

/

It didn't take much effort to dispatch the guards that stood watch over him.

Immelethrin was skilled in the ways of stealth, as well as the ways of assassination. He was quick to nick the knife from a passing member of the company and slip it up his sleeve, and he was quick to cut his ropes the minute his guards turned their backs.

Skilled in assassination as he was, something made Immelethrin hesitate from killing them, he could only bring himself to slam the back of the handle into their heads- enough to render them unconscious, not enough to hurt permanently.

Why did he follow them? Immelethrin wasn't sure. He had never seen the old house in the woods before; he was not entirely certain why they were there in the first place. A strange voice had been speaking inside of his mind as of late, telling him to focus. Why focus? He was completely focused. He knew that he needed to get out, to cut off Rosindium's head, and then find his master.

And yet the voice continued, growing louder every day, it spoke even now. _Get them out,_ it said, _find them and get them out._

Not sure of his motives or movements, Immelethrin stepped into the house, feeling his heart beat as he saw the open trapdoor and staircase beneath.

He _did_ know this place.

Something in him broke then, a strange feeling as if a tidal wave had hit him washed through his entire being. Everything he knew was a lie- everything he had done was a lie. He was not a servant, not for Dradun. He was not going to kill his friend, and he was not going to hurt the company. He was Immelethrin of the Southern Desert, Brother to Taurien and Uncle to Tauriel. His eyes moved from the knife in his hand to the stair case, and then back to the knife. Rosindium was down there- an entire crew of elves was- and to his dismay, so was Dradun.

"It's a trap."

And then he descended without a second thought.

/

Hana was glad that there were no visitors to Thorin at that time of day, a strange hour between noon and night that no one was quite sure what to call. She found herself tracing the patterns on the large wooden door as her mind raced. What in Durin's name was she doing?

She had just made a deal with a wolf, a murderous wolf-woman who had hurt her friend, who had hurt others. And yet…

She rested her forehead against the cool wood of the door, her fingertips brushing the handles. And yet Thorin could live, he could have a chance to be well, to be happy. They may not be together in the end- they probably wouldn't. She knew that from the beginning, but she also knew that if she did not do this, if she let him slip away, she'd regret it until the day she passed.

And so she entered.

The dwarf prince was asleep in the bed, his head in the pillows as he faced the ceiling, lying perfectly still. For a moment Hana thought he may be dead, but his chest moved, slowly- but it moved.

A strange, cold tingling shot through her arm that made her jump. Hana wrenched her sleeve back and almost passed out on the spot. Not from what was there- but from what wasn't there.

The cut that had bled through the fabric of her shirt was gone- completely and utterly gone. There was not scab, no scar, nothing, it was as if the knife had not touched her at all. Horror and fear overcame her as she reached a realization.

Her time was up.

Hana felt her arms fall limply at her sides, she needed to move quickly if she wanted to save him- she had not expected her sentence to arrive so soon, not yet an hour after she had encountered the wolf, and yet the wolf was surely on her way. She fingered the vial in her pocket as she approached.

"Thorin," she said, removing her gloves and coat and setting it on the edge of his bed before moving to run a cool hand over his heated forehead. The dwarf prince's eyes opened groggily. He would die soon, probably tonight, that is, if she did not help him.

"Hana…" his voice was cracked and swollen like his lips. She felt her heart break- this would be goodbye.

"Open your mouth," she whispered, "I just want to give you some water."

The dwarf prince did as he was told, although blood began to soak through the cracks in his lips at the movement. Hana uncorked the vial, and with shaking hands brought it to his lips. Before she could think twice, she let the liquid dribble down his throat, not removing the glass until it was completely empty.

She set it aside, coming to sit on the bed beside him as she tried to formulate her last words to him. Now that their departure was staring her directly in the face, Hana had no clue of what to say.

Thorin's eyes fluttered closed as he attempted to go back to sleep, but she let her hands cup his cheek in an effort to keep him awake, to keep his eyes fixed on her.

"Thorin- I need you to listen to me."

"What..?" he questioned quietly, his grey eyes flicking up to meet hers. Hana felt the tears come, but she didn't try to keep them from falling. She would not hide a single part of herself from him, not now, at the end of their time.

Her hand brushed over his face, his hair, his chest and hands as she tried to memorize him in the short moments she had left. Her wound had healed, the wolf would be coming, it may even be waiting outside the door- and she needed to finish soon.

"Thorin, I love you." Hana said, hoping that he heard her- _truly _heard her. "I love you so, _so_ much."

"Hana..."

"I need you to make me a promise alright?" she all but whimpered, letting her forehead rest on his, their noses brushing against one another. "I need you to promise me all that I have promised you. I want you to remember me fondly, and I want you to be happy." His hand came to rest on her arm.

"Hana what's wrong?"

"I need you to live a long life, full of joy and good moments." She continued regardless, unable to prevent her tears from falling onto his cheeks. "Please Thorin; above all, remember how important you are, and how much I love you."

His other arm wrapped around her back as he pulled her against him. "And I love you as well, Hana." He whispered weakly. "Please, tell me what's wrong?"

A knock sounded on the door, one that made every single nerve that had been holding her together melt into nothingness. The wolf was had arrived.

She pressed her lips against his, gently, and then more passionately, trying to thoroughly commit his mouth to memory. He kissed back, a little weakly, but she didn't care. He kissed back, and he loved her, and he had a chance at life. That was all she could ask for.

"Sleep," she whispered as she stood, pulling to covers up to his chest. Thorin's eyes stared into hers for another moment before drifting closed, and Hana bit her lip to hold back a sob. She brushed her hand over his briefly, knowing that she had to go but wanting nothing more than to stay. "All will be well."

She didn't look back then- she didn't want to. Gulping down whatever fear was in her, she moved to the doorway and turned the handle- not at all surprised to see a woman standing before her, the same hair and dress as the beast that had been plaguing her not long ago.

"Shall we?"

/

Rosindium was not exactly surprised when they were attacked.

At first he had thought it to be Fradun, a thought that made him sick inside out. But the man who currently had a sword lodged in his second in command's stomach was not the same one who had kidnapped the prince. He was a little taller, with grey streaks in his hair a few more wrinkles beneath his eyes, which were the same wicked green. Aradhelon crumbled to the floor with a gasp, and all of the other elves moved to attack the man- but before Rosindium could think he felt a sword press into his throat, the blade nicking off the top layer of skin- which caused the rest of his company to pause.

"You touch me, and I kill him." hissed the man, who took the elf by the wrist, and wrenched him down so he could whisper in his ear. "If you want to know what happened to Immelethrin, you'll follow me."

As the Fradun-replica turned and began to walk down the corridor, Rosindium held out a hand to stall the oncoming attacks from his company. "Stay here and tend to Aradhelon." said the auburn haired elf, "I will return shortly."

"But sir-"

"Do as I ask." Rosindium growled, and then not altogether sure of his actions, he began to follow the strange man down the hall, thankful that his company did indeed stay behind. The two said not a word as they weaved their way through the dimly lit walls of rock, rats scurrying about their feet and water dripping from the ceiling. Soon enough the hall began to grow narrow and the number of byways that they passed grew thin, until they reach a little door at the end, one that was painted a sickeningly black color.

They entered to a room that was equally as dark, a set of chains lead to the small crater in the middle, where the rock had been eroded by the number of prisoners chained there before. Rosindium kept one eye on the striking man and one hand on his sword as he said, "What did you do to my friend?"

The man paced around the room, eyes glancing about but not once landing on the elf. "What? No greeting? No fond hello? Shall I start then? My name is Dradun, father of Fradun- how are you?"

Rosindium gulped, unsheathing his sword. He should have known.

"You, Master elf," started the man, taking a torch from the wall and approaching him, the firelight dancing off of his cold, sinister features. "You have caused me a great deal of trouble."

"What did you do to Immelethrin?" Rosindium growled, "I will not hesitate to kill you."

"Nor I, you." said Dradun. "I poisoned your friend, I destroyed his mind. Immelethrin's sole purpose is to serve me, and perhaps more importantly, abolish you."

"How do I reverse it?" he asked, all but shouting in rage, "How do I bring him back?"

"You mean, he has not returned to himself already?" Dradun asked incredulously, "The poison should have worn off by now; he should be back to himself. That is, unless… he really _does_ want to kill you."

"Silence!" Rosindium shouted raising his sword to strike, but Dradun was too quick, ducking out of the way as if he were lightning. He turned full circle until his eyes landed on the wicked man, who inexplicably had retrieved the elf's satchel of explosives, holding it in one hand and his torch in another.

"You have caused me trouble- Rosindium." said Dradun, hand disappearing into the bag and pulling out one of the smaller explosives, a little bomb he had fashioned to destroy roof tops, although in this confined rocky space it would surely obliterate them both. The elf's breath hitched. "No- don't!"

"My master has ordered me to kill you," he said quietly, bringing the torch to the frayed string of the explosive, blowing on the spark until it was lit. The man stepped closer, bomb in hand. "I will not let him down."

A high pitched ringing sounded the air, followed by light, everywhere. Rosindium could feel the burns on every inch of his body; he could hear his screams rising above that of Dradun's as the inferno engulfed them both.

And then he was gone.

/

When Thorin awoke to Oin pressing a cloth to his head, things were different.

He was hungry, which wouldn't seem to be surprising since he had not eaten in the last two weeks, but his hunger had dimmed into an ache, until it vanished altogether. So when Thorin awoke with the desperate instinct to eat, he knew something had changed.

"Oin," he mumbled, sitting up. "Oin, I want to eat."

"I know Laddie," the dwarf said, crushing some herbs in his hand. Thorin shook his head, "Oin, I _really _want to eat."

The elder sighed, meeting his eyes sympathetically. "My prince, there's no way that you can-"

"Please, let me try." He said lowly. "Just one last time."

Oin sighed, rubbing his temples. "What would you like to eat then?"

"Anything," responded the prince, and he watched as Oin fished his hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out an apple that was colored a mixture of pink and yellow. "Try it out," he said, handing Thorin the fruit. The prince examined it for a moment before sinking his teeth in, pulling out a satisfying bite and chewing, washing it down with a swig of water.

He and Oin waited for the chills and the vomiting that usually followed, but it never came. A minute passed, and then two, and then five.

"Mahal…"

Thorin took another bite, and then another, and soon the apple was a thin core that he tossed away. "I need more," said the dwarf prince.

"You should be heaving your guts up!" exclaimed Oin, "Let me look at your mouth!"

The prince let his jaw go slack as Oin poked and prodded, but it took only a moment before the elder dwarf shot to his feet, knocking the chair aside. "It's gone." He said slowly. "Your illness, it's completely gone!"

Thorin looked at his hands, feeling a smile break across his face. "It's a miracle Oin."

"I'll get your father." said the elder dwarf as he hurriedly packed away his medical supplies. "You just stay here- I'll get your father and Balin and some food."

"And Hana," the prince added, and Oin nodded. "and Hana. Stay here," but before the elder turned to go, he clapped a hand onto Thorin's shoulder, "Let us pray in thanks!" he exclaimed before exiting hurriedly, shouting down the hallways, "Miracle!"

Thorin looked down at his hands, all the while grinning like he never had before. Whatever was happening- he would _live._ Things would be alright.

And yet, as he watched the candlelight dance across his room, his eyes landed on a little brown over coat and pair of gloves that were laid across the foot of his bed. Bringing them to him, he immediately recognized the smell as Hana's.

Nothing felt right after that.

/

**Hehehehehe**

**So ya, I've been writing a lot more than I thought I would… I had promised myself to study but seriously I can't get my mind off of this story. I hope this chapter was at least semi- interesting, and not altogether heartbreaking. I am suddenly seeing a continued plot for this story! Be prepared in the next chapter for Angst…angst…and angst.**

**Thanks for reading, please review! Let me know what you think! **

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

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	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty Six: How to Save a Life

Immelethrin wandered amongst the pines, trying to remember exactly how he got there in the first place. The forest floor was black, charred by the fires that burned not far in the distance. He had awoken to the smell of smoke, and had promptly gotten to his feet in an effort to bring distance between himself and the scene of the disaster.

It had started to rain; the fire well on its way to dimming. The house had been utterly burned down, with a black crater where the structure had stood. The elves that survived numbered at six, the two that had been standing guard over him and four that had escaped from beneath the earth. Memories started to flood back- he had bolted down the stairs and into the corridor, only to find a group of elves standing there- the medic girl leaned over the dying body of Rosindium's second in command. When they had seen him, they immediately tried to subdue him- but the dark elf managed to hold them off, and in the short moments that they had, he explained that they had all walked into a trap, and needed to evacuate the area as quickly as possible. None believed him, and so Immelethrin followed his instinct, and brought his fist crashing into the face of one of the nearer elves. Shouts erupted and he maneuvered his way back up the stairs, hoping that they would follow. He had made it a few yards from the house before things blew.

The survivors were all grouped by the tree- all fairly injured and one mortally so, who was unlikely to last the night. The medic girl- Nerythiril was her name- did what she could to help them with their limited remaining supplies. But as Immelethrin neared, he noted that the one that was wounded worst of all was sure to die in minutes- a large splinter of wood about the length of his arm was protruding from the elf's chest, and he was not responding to the calls of his companions.

Immelethrin felt as if his insides were on fire. Almost everyone had died, and surely Rosindium was amongst those. His friend had likely gone to the same place where he had been chained, and the explosion in there would have split him apart in seconds. Dradun would be dead, so would Aradhelon, as well as all those who had not left the ground in time. The elf placed a hand over his mouth in an effort to stop the vomit that was about to erupt- his best friend was dead. His sister's husband, and niece's father was dead. Rosindium lay somewhere beneath the earth- now made out of ash, and it was his fault.

Nerythiril looked up at him as he drew near, her hair was a simple brown, extending in a braid to her hips, and her eyes did not look away, not exactly scowling but neither looking pleased.

"I am sorry," was all he could choke as tears began to cascade down his cheeks. Was he crying? The elf didn't care. He had no need for dignity anymore; he had lost his best friend, he had lost everything. "I am sorry." He said again. The group all looked up at him, most of them looking as if they were near ready to beat whatever life he had left out of him- and Immelethrin half hoped they would. He watched as Nerythiril stood from the elf she had been watching over who had by now gone completely still, his eyes glazed over as blood leaked from all corners of his mouth. The elf girl approached, and although he could not bring himself to look into her eyes, he did not move from his spot, he would face whatever punishment she dealt him.

To his astonishment however, Immelethrin was embraced. Nerythiril wrapped her arms around him in a crushing hug and he found himself swallowed in utter shock. Was she not supposed to hate him? Did he not deserve death?

"Courage, friend." She said, pulling back, brown eyes full of tears. "You were not yourself in these past weeks. And you tried to warn us." She then turned to address the surviving members of the company; with the mortally wounded elf dead, they now numbered six including him. "Those who remained below ground are dead." She announced, "But the hideout was demolished nevertheless. Let us pay our rights, and let us go home."

Nerythiril then led the remaining elves in a prayer, occasionally stopping to control her sobs. Immelethrin could not keep his eyes closed; he could only look back at the dark crater in the ground and the smoldering fire that was once a little house in the woods, now being trudged down by rain, as they all were.

The elf did not want to go home; he did not want to go anywhere. He wanted to go and lie down in the fire, or to go back in time far away, were he was still a little boy in his village, where he would not have hunted snakes alone, where he could have prevented this entire mess.

He bowed his head, and he cried.

/

"This day is a good one my son." said Thrain, coming to rest a hand on Thorin's shoulder. The prince by now had finished two meals, completely devoid of the plague that had near claimed his life; he had taken advantage of Erebor's food sources like he never had before.

Thrain, Frerin, Dis, Dwalin and Balin all stood around the foot of his bed, giving him various congratulations and words of joy. Thorin would nod politely to each one, giving his tearful sister a hug or two and grin widely at Dwalin and Balin, and yet something still seemed to be off about the whole affair.

He was living, yes, and he still had a long time yet to live. He had regained his ability to eat- and would be able to spend some long years with his family and friends. How it had happened? No one had a clue, and yet they did not dwell on it, only expressed their thanks to Mahal in louds exclamations and shared a cheerful look with one another. But as time passed, and each family member began to file out, Thorin could not help the empty feeling that settled deeply in the pit of his gut. Oin had gone looking for Hana, but had not yet returned.

No one seemed to notice that he currently held her overcoat in his lap, and that each smile he granted and each piece of food he ate he did so half-heartedly. Soon enough Thrain had excused himself, following after Dwalin, Frerin, and Dis who had left long ago, leaving Thorin in the company of Balin.

"What's wrong lad?" questioned the older dwarf as he came to sit on a chair at his bedside. "You have been blessed with life, you have regained your strength, and yet all you've been doing is staring at the doorway, hardly granting anyone a glance."

Thorin opened his mouth to respond, but closed it when a flustered looking Oin appeared in the doorway with- to the prince's disappointment- no one at his side.

"I looked everywhere, sir." The healer said as he entered the room. "I've searched the civilian homes, the mines, and the courtyard, everywhere. The only person who claimed to have seen her today was a guard of the gate, who said that she had exited the city with a mortal woman- with long white hair and a greenish dress. That's all I know."

Thorin nodded, feeling a bit unsettled. She could be at Dale, she could be with Bofur, she could still be in these halls for all he knew, so why did he have such a feeling, and who was the white woman?

Balin cleared his throat beside him and Thorin turned to see that his elder friend had broken into a sweat, eyes darting around the room. "Are... are you sure he said that her dress was green? And that the woman was a mortal?"

"Sure as I am short." Responded Oin, and Balin nodded, licking his lips nervously said, "If you could give us a moment, Master Oin, that would be appreciated."

"Of course," said the dwarf, eyes darting to Thorin before he humbly excused himself and closed the door.

"Balin…" Thorin questioned slowly, already fearing the answer. "Where is Hana?"

The older dwarf sighed, rubbing his temples in exhaustion. "I think that it's high time I confess to you, lad."

Thorin sat up a little straighter, "I'm listening."

"King Fengel did not grant me the extra gold that your grandfather requested." said the elder dwarf, "I acquired it through another source."

When the prince said nothing, he continued, "I had gone to my room, utterly distraught at the realization that Thror would have my head upon finding that we did not bring him the requested pay. But when I arrived I found that there was a woman there, a human woman with long, white hair, who wore a green dress. She offered me the gold that I needed, seemingly for nothing. When I asked what I would need to give her in return, she simply said that she would find me when she thought of it, but for now- she just needed to cut me."

"Cut you?"

The dwarf nodded, bringing up his sleeve to expose a long, thin mark on his forearm that was a mixture of both scar and scab, "I let her cut me, and once she had done so, she told me that she would come for payment when the scar faded." Balin heaved a sigh, "I do not know if this is the same woman that is with Hana, but I do know that it's not impossible. That may yet explain how you are living. Maybe Hana was approached and offered healing by the woman, maybe she directed it towards you. Do you remember anything such as that?"

Thorin looked down at her overcoat that lay in his lap. The seams had been frayed from months of exposed use and wear, there were a fair amount of stains as well, but as he examined it a little closer, he found one sleeve, the right one, to have a thick red stripe down the side, and as he smelled it, he felt his insides settle in fear.

Blood.

Memories began to flood back in those moments. Her hand on his forehead, her tears on his cheek, a strange, tasteless liquid being poured down his throat, all the while as she repeated words such as "Remember," and "I love you,"

He cursed, pulling the blankets away from him and shifting his legs in an attempt to get out of bed, but immediately Balin was putting a hand on each shoulder and pushing him back down, much to the prince's discontent.

"I have to go after her." He growled, struggling against the man, but it was no use; two weeks of not eating had taken its toll indeed.

"No, Thorin." Said Balin. "You are not yourself."

"She could be in danger," he said, "Please Balin, I have already lost her once. Do not make me go through it again."

"I won't." said the elder dwarf. "I'll set out, Dwalin and I. We'll take some soldiers and go look for her. Until then you must stay here. You must regain your strength. You're not even fit to walk, let alone chase her down."

The prince chewed on his tongue. He was hardly alright with that, he needed to be absolutely sure she was alright, he needed to find her. But Balin did have a point, if he were to get up and ride a pony in his current state; he would surely pass out within minutes. He needed to recover, but that would take weeks, and he needed to find her immediately.

"We'll bring her back." said Balin, "But until then, you must put all of your energy into recovery. You must eat and exercise so that you can wield a sword and run. Until that day comes you will not be of any use to her."

He wrung the overcoat in his hands. All of this was very, very wrong.

"She will be alright, Thorin." Balin reaffirmed, "We will find her."

Thorin could only look out the window, wondering where exactly he had gone wrong.

/

"What's this?" Ethir questioned, turning as a large, white wolf approached him, carrying the form of a person in her jaws. As it grew near, the man's features broke into a smirk as he realized who exactly it was that the wolf carried. A blonde dwarf girl, freckled and bloodied from the teeth that she currently had sinking into her abdomen, the wolf came to stand in front of him, and dropped the dwarf girl from its jaws, letting her land to the grassless ground with a thud.

"You can be yourself around me, you know," said Ethir to the wolf as he nudged the girl onto her back with his foot. Hana was unconscious, her face covered in dirt and blood and grime. Her torso was pierced and bleeding in many places, but she was still breathing steadily, and that's all that he really cared about.

Slowly the wolf in front of him morphed from beast to woman, completely naked, with pale skin reflecting the moonlight above and hair shining white. Ethir removed his overcoat and handed it to her- just because he was the embodiment of all that was evil and chaotic did not mean that he was not a gentleman.

"The girl sold herself to me to save her prince." Said the wolf turned woman as she shrugged on Ethir's coat, "She came quietly and willingly, no one seemed to notice that we had left."

Ethir glanced at her momentarily. "Right. Well tell me then, if she did not put up a struggle, why did you find the need to crush her between your teeth?"

The woman shrugged, "Just a little extra incentive."

"Right, right." Ethir murmured, and after a moment, "You do realize what this means though- the fact that you hurt her?"

The wolf-woman said nothing, only looked up at him, smug grin on her face. Ethir felt the need to wipe it off, and that's exactly what he did, swinging his hand down to slap it across her cheek. "I plan to use Hana as a weapon," he said, "And now that time is delayed because we must wait for her to heal."

"I'm sorry sir." The woman said, hand coming up to touch the cheek that he had hit. "It was my mistake."

Ethir nodded, "It was indeed your mistake, and one that I will make you pay for soon enough." He motioned to Hana, and then to the little stone shack behind him. "Take her inside, and then go to Erebor."

"Erebor?" the woman asked incredulously, and was rewarded with another slap across the face. Ethir grinned at the satisfying sting of his hand- hurting people really did bring him joy.

"Yes, Erebor." said the man. "Go and bring this to Thorin, son of Thrain" he held out a scroll, tied neatly with black ribbon. "It tells them of our whereabouts."

He could see another question formulating on the woman's mouth, but she held it back in fear of another hit. "I suppose you're wondering why?" and when she nodded tentatively, "I do not care about Balin, Dwalin, Frerin, Dis, or even Thrain. I need Thror. Now- the king only truly cares about gold- yet he still harbors some love for his children. If I can reach Thrain, who cares deeply about Thorin, I will reach the king. Understand?"

The wolf woman shook her head, and he growled. "If I have Hana, I can lure Thorin in. Once I have Thorin, I can lure Thrain, and then finally, Thror. We cannot waste time bringing the prince here, we want him to be weak and easy to subdue, we want him to come after her before he is fully healed. We want him to be desperate. And do you know how we will do that?"

Ethir took Hana's arm and hoisted it up, pulling out a dagger from his sleeve, he sliced through the skin of her hand, letting her blood soak the bottom half of the scroll efficiently. "Thorin must know that her life is at stake," he said, letting her wounded appendage fall to the ground. "He must know that only he can save her."

"I will go now, sir," said the woman, pocketing the scroll and the hoisting Hana up to drag her limp body to the stone shack. Ethir bit back a laugh.

"Love, what a foolish notion."

/

**Kay guys, I really, really need to go study, so depending on how fast I get my homework done, the next chapter may be in a week, or it may be tomorrow, who knows.**

**Although I haven't been getting many reviews lately, I have been getting a considerable amount from The EarthSong, which I thoroughly enjoy. I know that I'm quote: "Evil. Wicked. Horrible. Vile. Despicable. And just plain mean." If you are getting feels, I am sorry. I do intend to continue this story though, and I hope it will end on a happy note. Thanks for reviewing and reading, it's kinda the only reason I'm still writing this ;)**

**NEXT CHAPTER: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, cute Fili, ANGST, ANGST**

**-Infinityscripts**


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty Seven: Lost

As hopeful as she was, Hana's circumstances had not changed when she opened her eyes.

She was in a little room with rickety wooden floors and stone walls, a window on each side and a table in the corner, with a bed pressed up against the wall opposite her. Her hands were bound, and she grimaced at the all too familiar pain. Twisting experimentally, she found there to be a brand new cut on her hand, she could feel the blood cracking around the wound as she flexed the muscles there. What had happened?

It hurt to breath- she noted, so that must have been a partial reason as to why she was in so much pain. She had blood caked onto her tunic in various places where the wolf woman had sunk her teeth in, not deep enough to permanently wound, just deep enough to hurt- quite a bit.

It was dawn. A man lay sleeping in a bed not far away. His appearance was startlingly unique; he had to have been almost seven feet tall, with snow colored skin and hair that of pale starlight. Hana searched the room for a weapon, propped against the table she saw a sword that had to have been as tall as her, not something she could wield easily, but it would have to do.

_For what?_ She wondered, was it wise to attempt escape? For surely she would be harshly punished if she failed (and she most likely would), not to mention, they may be inclined to hurt Thorin, and she was not content with that notion in the least bit.

The man stirred, and Hana held her breath until he settled into sleep again. Who was he, and where was the wolf woman? What were they to do with her? Where they to poison her mind like Immelethrin or torture her to death? Hana shuddered, not wishing to consider the possibilities despite how they were staring her in the face.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the rocky wall to stare at the cob-webbed ceiling as she forced herself to hold back tears of despair and fear. She was a dwarf, and such things were not becoming. Thorin would live, and that's all that should have mattered.

And yet she found herself longing, mostly for home. She longed to see Bofur and Kenaii marry as well as watch Bumble and Fili grow up. She wanted to live to welcome Thorin as the king, and she wanted to be with him, at least as long as permitted, maybe even forever.

But all of those ideas were simply that, ideas. Sucking up any emotion that might have been swaying her, Hana sat up straight. She had chosen this, and she would go through with it, whatever debt must be paid she'd pay it with interest.

"Hello there," said a voice, and Hana looked to see that the strange pale man had arisen from his sleep, now pulling his long hair into a simple braid. Hana held her chin high but said nothing, this man had power over her, be she would not allow him to own her even unto death, which seemed to be approaching rapidly.

"So the rumors are true then?" he asked with mock mirth in his eyes, "Dwarves really are uncivil beasts?"

"Only to some." She responded, "Only to those who fear us."

"Fear you?" he laughed, "No, I do not fear you. In all honesty, your kind amuses me."

He stood now, moving to the table to unsheathe his enormous sword, and Hana unwillingly tensed. He seemed to catch her in the act, for he laughed again, and she shot him a glare.

He pulled a molding stone from a pocket in his robe, and then brought it down upon the blade, the contact making a hissing sound as he smoothed it down the edge. "I do not intend to kill you, little one." He said, "I intend to use you."

"What for?" she questioned immediately. What use was she to anyone? A simple female dwarf who hardly knew how to use a sword and couldn't drive a cart to save her life, she wasn't exactly a wanted asset in most societies.

"I assume you know a Thorin, son of Thrain, as my sources suggest?" he responded, glancing up from his work briefly, and Hana shuddered at the deadness of his stare. She didn't say a word, only held her chin up a little higher at the mention of her prince, although a slow dread became to arise from within. What did he want with Thorin?

"For now, I will assume that you do." He said, a strange grin flashing on his grey lips. "I sent my little servant to poison the prince, and he did quite well I hear, was Thorin not starving to death the last time you had seen him?"

He was trying to get personal, to make her crack, but Hana was determined to remain silent. Any word she uttered could hurt Thorin, and she was not willing to risk a syllable.

"I suppose you wonder why I changed my mind. I brought him to the brink of death only to save him at the last moment, now what does that tell you? That I am a politician? A mad genius? Perhaps even sorcerer?" He brought the flat of the blade a few inches from his face to examine it, all the while sliding his fingers against the edge to determine sharpness. "Perhaps you even _fear_ me." He whispered, and then glanced at her briefly.

"You should fear me, you know. I can ruin your entire existence. I can kill you and bring you back, or torture you to the point where you beg me to kill you. If I wanted to, I could even bring Thorin here and have him watch, or have you watch me torture _him_. I can tear apart everything you hold dear in this world and then restrain you from picking up the pieces. I can have people killed, your family, your friends… Bofur was your brother's name I think? And all of the little ones as well, I could ensure them a significantly painful death."

His words had an effect on her, for she was sure that he could do all of the things he claimed, but she did not risk showing evidence of emotion. The man began to move towards her, sword in hand. As he grew close, he let the tip of the blade tease the skin of her throat.

"I could do all of those things, Hana, and then release you. Let you go back to your home if only to be haunted by those memories the rest of your life, until it becomes too much and you hang yourself from a bridge. I could do all of that, and more."

"Who are you?"

He grinned wickedly, and in his gravely, deep voice he whispered, "I am Ethir, and I will _ruin_ you."

/

"Still no sign of her?" Bofur questioned, and Balin simply shook his head. "We've torn this city inside out, checking every nook and cranny, and Hana is nowhere to be found."

He couldn't help it, Bofur cursed. "She's only been here for a week." He said, "A week! What caused her to leave so soon?"

They walked on the outskirts of the city; Bofur had just been getting back from selling in Dale and was getting ready to work a shift in the mines. He had been told earlier that morning that Hana was nowhere to be seen, but dismissed it as a casual absence. She would surely be somewhere in the city or even in Dale. And yet when he returned to Erebor to find Balin waiting outside of the gates he knew that it was time to expect something worse.

"To tell you the truth, Lad," Balin said, "I do not think that she went willingly."

Bofur stared at him incredulously, "You mean that she's been kidnapped?"

"Why else would she leave?"

"I dunno," muttered the miner, "Not two days ago it was certain that Thorin was going to die, maybe she succumbed to despair?"

"She disappeared the same day we discovered him to be healed; you'd think she'd want to stay." Balin muttered, and Bofur shook his head. "I don't want her to be in danger anymore."

"Hana knows what she's doing Bofur, it's not the first time she's been kidnapped, after all." said the older dwarf. After he had uttered the last syllable however, Balin stopped in his tracks, eyes gazing at the gate entrance not far from the road.

"What is it?" Bofur questioned, following his stare. The guards stood watch at the gate, and people passed to and fro. A woman with long white hair stood completely still however, staring at them unflinchingly. Something about her sent shivers up the younger dwarf's spine.

"I need to be somewhere, lad," said Balin shakily, offering Bofur a nod before hurrying off, leaving the miner to stare blankly in confusion.

/

Thorin leaned against Dwalin as they struggled down the hallway. He was still fairly weak, but he had been summoned to the prisons for a reason, one he was not sure of.

When they reached the dank hallway lined with cells, the prince was relieved to see Balin standing in front of a particular one with a chair at his side for Thorin to sit. Dwalin helped him struggle over, and the dwarf prince sunk into it. Only then did he look into the cell, to see a human woman staring back. She had long silver hair, and wore a green dress, with a discolored scroll held in one hand. Immediately he felt rage bubble. Was this her? The one who had kidnapped Hana? Suddenly he was very grateful for the older dwarf's steady hand on his shoulder, for Thorin would surely lash out at the woman if not for it.

"Prince," she greeted, strange black eyes staring back into his. "I have a message from my master to you." She held out the scroll, and Balin suspiciously reached for it and handed it to Thorin, however, the prince did not open it. "Where is she?" he questioned, "What did you do to Hana?"

The woman smiled, and Thorin was near ready to grab a sword and cut her to pieces. Hana had still not been found, and the worry was wearing at his very soul. Of all of the fates, one where he lived and she did not scared him more than anything else in this world.

"The scroll will tell you what happened," she said, but the dwarf prince shook his head. "I want to hear it from you."

She cocked her head to the side, "Alright then," she started, and Balin squeezed his shoulder in warning. "I took her, I changed into my wolf form, and I sunk my teeth into her flesh. I'm sure that she will have scars for the rest of her life."

He was up in a moment, pressed against the bars, "Why?!" he questioned. "Why in Durin's name would you do that?"

She shrugged. "Read the parchment."

Balin's hand was on his shoulder again, pulling him back down to the chair, and Thorin unwillingly obliged. Sparing the woman and heated glare, he removed the ribbon from the scroll, and rolled it open.

The first thing he noticed was the blood, a fair amount caked onto one side, sinking into the paper and making the writing almost illegible. He tensed at the sight.

"That blood is Hana's in case you were wondering," said the wolf woman, and Thorin felt rage rip at every nerve in his body as he attempted to remains still. Ignoring the sarcastic comments of the woman in front of him, he began to read aloud.

"Thorin,

I am sure that you are wondering where exactly your precious dwarf girl is, and I can tell you that she is perfectly safe in my abode, although not altogether unharmed. My skin changer whom I'm sure you've met has made a pact with Hana, offering her your healing in return for her imprisonment, and she readily agreed to save you. I stand watch over her currently, where the Celduin River meets the Greenwood from the southeast. Look for the field surrounded by red trees, there you will find a little house, and there you will find me, and Hana.

Why am I telling you this, you may wonder? Hana's scenario now is much like it was seven months ago. I am holding her for ransom, the ransom this time however, is not gold, but you.

I claim custody of Hana of the Goldbeard clan until Thorin son of Thrain, Prince under the mountain, surrenders himself to me unconditionally and completely for my own purposes and order. Only then will Hana be released from her imprisonment.

Understand that I will wait. I am a very patient man, and I can keep Hana alive and prisoner for the rest of her life if I need to. Also understand that I make no promises to how well she will be treated; only that she will be alive. I intend to entertain myself while I wait for you, and if that means," Thorin paused, biting his lip, "If that means by torture, primal desires, humiliation or experimentation, I intend to go through with it. Know that the longer I wait, the more bored I will be, and also the more inclined I will be to do such things. I cannot kill her physically, but I can destroy every other aspect of her: soul, mentality, stability, you name it and I can do it, and I intend to.

In the end, it is your choice; her fate is in your hands. She has sacrificed everything to save you, what will you do for her?

Ethir of the Southern Hills"

He set the paper down in his lap, shaking considerably as he attempted to calm his breathing. Balin's hand was on his shoulder, weighing him down like a cart of iron. Dwalin leaned up against the wall, eyes downcast, and all of this time the woman simply stood behind the rusted bars of her cell, smiling at him maliciously.

"So, shall I escort you to my master?" she sneered, "Or are you too pathetic to save the girl you love?" Thorin tried to block out her words and Balin hoisted him up and began to pull him away from the cell with Dwalin in toe, and he could not help but flinch when she shouted after him, "Or is it that you never loved her at all?"

"Don't listen to her, Thorin." Balin said as they exited the jail. The prince no longer needed to lean on anyone, the rage he had at the moment provided him enough energy to take down a cave troll.

"We'll go after her, we'll kill this- Ethir, and we'll bring her back." assured Dwalin, "It would be my pleasure to take off the bastard's head and stick it on a spear."

Thorin didn't answer, for he couldn't formulate words at the moment. Hana was in danger, and although her life was not at risk, a whole world of pain was ahead if he did not intervene. He looked at his hands, now thin and frail compared to the strong fists that they had been, was he in any shape to fight? Definitley not. What kind of a foe was Ethir? Strong enough to defeat a mass of dwarves? Or was Hana destined for torture if he alone did not arrive? Thorin bit his lip until it bled; he had a strong instinct that it was the later.

They helped him to his room and onto his bed, all this time Thorin biting his lip, uncaring of what damage it may cause. He didn't want to imagine what that vile excuse for a man meant when he said, "torture, primal desires, humiliation or experimentation," but he knew that he would not let any of those occur. If it meant crawling to where The Greenwood and Celduin River met on all fours completely naked, he would do it. Balin knew it, and that probably worried the old dwarf.

His two friends assured him for a few more minutes that Hana would be alright, and he half-heartedly listened, all the while holding back the urge to go back to the dungeon and rip that woman apart. After a few minutes, they left him, shutting the dwarf prince off to his own thoughts.

"Mahal…" he whispered. What was he to do? Thorin knew that he needed to leave as soon as possible, that was simple enough, he'd take a decent amount of food and one of the stronger pony's, as well as his sword and a some medical supplies. Although he wouldn't be surprised if Balin had someone stationed outside his door to prevent that very action, Thorin could easily subdue whoever it was (save perhaps Dwalin). But he could not go alone, he'd need someone to assist him, for he was still weak from his near starvation, and he would need someone to escort Hana home. Dwalin and Balin were not an option, and Frerin would be too busy attending parties to perform such an act. Oin or Dori wouldn't do it either; they were far too loyal to his grandfather. He needed to find someone whom Hana was just as important too, someone who would sacrifice most anything for her.

Making up his mind, he got out of bed and pulled on his boots, then wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and pulled up his hood. Thorin then exited his room, careful to be quiet and draw no attention to himself as he made his way to the citizen's neighborhoods. He needed to find Bofur.

/

The night sky had no stars, only an endless mixture of black and blue, with the blurred light of the moon peeking out from beneath the heavy clouds. Immelethrin sat on his back, arms crossed behind his head to ease the ache in his neck. The rest of the elves were silent as they all lay in the bare grass. A fire had not been set; they were all far too exhausted emotionally as well as physically from burying the elf who had been mortally wounded.

Nerythiril lay a few feet away from him, dark hair spread out beneath her thin form. Her eyes were shut as she feigned sleep, though Immelethrin new better.

Why had she been so kind to him? The dark elf knew that he deserved the sympathy of no persons, and after all he had been somewhat responsible for the deaths of her companions. Yet she forgave him, quickly and willingly, even offering him comfort for the loss of Rosindium in the process.

Immelethrin did not want to imagine what would occur when they reached the Greenwood (for they were headed that direction). The others had assured him that he would not face trial because he had no say in his actions, but Immelethrin was not worried about that. He would much rather spend an eternity in a cell than face his sister with the news of her husband's death, knowing that it was partially his fault.

With those thoughts haunting him, Immelethrin turned on his side, and tried to sleep.

**/**

**Am I smelling a new ship here? Tell me what you think about Immelethrin x Nerythiril, I'm contemplating it, although he'd be awesome even if he was by himself! **

**Michi Shojo, thank you for your big long paragraphs, I ABSOLUTELY love long reviews! Also, thanks for the critique on my extensive use of 'invincibility' in my main characters. I had never really considered that as a flaw in my writing, but now that you've pointed it out I totally agree. After some plot reorganizing, I can assure you that Hana's invincibility will come back to bite her in the butt later on. Thanks for the review; I really appreciate you letting me know! Also, thanks for all the nice things you said about this story; it really boosts my confidence in writing!**

**Big shout out to all of my reviewers, followers, favoriters, and readers, YOU GUYS ARE A BEAUTFIUL BUNCH OF HUMAN BEINGS!**

**Read and review, sorry for the angst, as well as for the lack of Fili, I intended to include him in this chapter but it didn't really fit with all the serious situations.**

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

Contribute a better translation


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty Eight: Lamentations of the Heart

Bofur took Bumble from Kenaii's arms, making sure to tuck the little one in thoroughly before blowing out the candle by his cradle. All of the boys had gone to sleep upstairs already. Kenaii offered him a little smile as he held out his hand to help her up from the chair she had just been feeding his little brother in. Fingers intertwined, they made their way to the front door. Bofur fumbled with the necklace in his pocket. Was this the right time, with Hana missing and while the world around them dissolved into chaos? Well then again, there never really would be a perfect time to ask, so why not now?

Taking a steady breath, his dark eyes resting in hers, he spoke; "Kenaii, how inclined would you be to marry me?"

He barely had time to get out the last word before she was on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and exclaiming in joy. Bofur felt his heart ease; holding her tightly before letting go, and even then she yanked him down into a deep kiss. Pulling back, she offered him a smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

He pulled the necklace from his pocket, and shakily hooked the chain around her neck. "I'll be honest love; I don't have the money to buy you something nice. This necklace was my mothers, and my grandmother's, and my great grandmother's. I can only ask that you accept it."

Kenaii fingered the little pink pearl for a moment, red lashes brushing against flushed cheeks as she smiled. "I love it, Bofur." She said, and then looked at him, tears of happiness brimming her eyes. "Of course I accept it."

Joy mingled with relief swelled in his insides. "That's all I can ask."

Much to his content, she pulled him down into another kiss, in which he participated whole-heartedly. "Shall I walk you home?" he questioned after pulling away, but she shook her head. "You've been working far too hard lately with your brothers and the mines, why don't you just sleep in tomorrow?"

Bofur smiled at this, for as much as he loved her, he really was looking forward to a soft pillow and the quiet of the night. "Be safe then," he said, holding open the door for her, and gently ushering her out. "I love you," he said, and she smiled as she called back, "and the same to you!"

Bofur shut the door, grinning to himself. How had everything worked out so much in his favor? How in the world had he ever come to deserve someone as perfect as her? They'd be getting married, _married!_ He laughed a bit, for he seemed to have all of the luck in the world lately. Turning, he moved to pinch out the candle on the table in the kitchen, but he stopped when there was a knock at the door. It couldn't be Kenaii, she never really knocked. Not a vendor, it was far too late an hour. He swallowed a bit, hoping that it was anyone but Balin, for Balin always seemed to be the bearer of bad news.

He went and quietly pulled open the door, and felt an eyebrow rise in confusion at the hooded stranger on his steps. "Can I help you?"

Strong fingers came up to pull off the hood, and revealed none other than Thorin, son of Thrain, the prince of Erebor himself. His cheekbones stood out against pale, hollowed skin, his face clammy with sweat, he really must have been sick. Bofur invited him in.

"Can I get you food or something?" he questioned, and Thorin nodded, "If it's not too much trouble."

Bofur nodded, and moved to the cupboards, eventually favoring a plate of biscuits that he had made that morning. He went and pulled out a pint, and filled it to the brim with ale; there was never a need to question a dwarf if they wanted beer. Beer was just a way of life.

Thorin accepted them gratefully as he carefully came to sit at the table, and Bofur came to sit on the opposite side, facing him. "What brings you here at this hour, prince?" The miner asked, albeit a little awkwardly. He had never spoken to the prince for very long, and the fact that the dwarf was courting his sister did indeed make him a little uneasy. Thorin looked up from his vigorous eating. "I need your help."

Bofur swallowed, hand coming to fumble with the side of his mustache in nervousness. "What happened?"

The prince stared at his hands. "Hana's in trouble. I think... I think her life is at stake." He then glanced about the humble home. "I know that you have many duties at here, and I understand that. But no one else will help, you're my last chance."

The miner felt his heart beat speed up. "What do you mean? Where is she?"

The dwarf prince's eyes came up to meet his unwaveringly. "She is being held hostage- and I am the ransom."

/

Hana awoke to a foot in her ribs.

She groaned and rolled over, blinking extensively as she managed to sit up, wincing at the pain that ebbed from her various bruises and wounds. Ethir stood above her, eyes filled with sadistic humor. Hana glared right back- she did not plan to be broken.

"I'm feeling rather bored today, oh prisoner." He said, hand reaching into the pocket of his cloak, "What shall I do with you?"

"Let me go?" she suggested, and was surprised as the back of the man's hand came crashing down on the side of her face, sending her head into the wall. She let out a gasp of pain.

"Letting you go would be far too _boring._" He said, "Besides, before you so kindly beheaded my servant Undomner, he made me this peculiar elixir." Ethir pulled out a little bottle filled with a strange pale looking liquid. "I hear that it can turn the strongest man into a bundle of tears, begging for release from all of the _exquisite _pain. I tested it on my father you know, and after a few hours he died. Let's see how long it takes you." He uncapped the bottle and brought it to her face, but Hana promptly turned her head. Ethir then continued to grasp a handful of her hair and wrench her face upwards. "Shall I give you a little incentive then? My wolf woman is currently in Erebor, and she will _kill_ your prince at my first command. Now what's it going to be?"

"Why are you doing this?" Hana questioned, "What do you want from me?"

"Drink, and maybe then I'll tell you."

The dwarf girl glanced between the bottle and the man, and then the bottle again. Was he bluffing about Thorin? It wasn't unlikely. But was she willing to risk it? Absolutely not. Swallowing all of her fears, Hana reached out her bound hands and took the little bottle, downing it all in one gulp. Ethir grinned maliciously as he took the empty vial from her, "Bad idea."

Immediately, as if a switch had been flicked, a feeling of burning engulfed every inch of her skin, causing her to gasp. Her head began to spin, and it felt as if she was surrounded by molten metal, her skin melting from her very bones as her hair burned and her throat grew into a furnace. It felt as if she were being covered in slow, deep, lacerations, and as if her fingernails were being pulled clean off, and then all of her body was dipped in salt. She let out a bellow of agony as the pain intensified.

"I made a promise to your prince." said Ethir as he watched the dwarf girl convulse on the floor, she vomited, and then again. "I told him that until he arrived and sold himself to me, I would torture you. I would make you wish you were dead. And who am I to break such a promise?"

Her eyes filled with tears as the pain intensified, and she doubled over, her entire form taken over by spasms as her very bones began to feel afflicted. She screamed then, praying fervently to Mahal that it would stop.

After what seemed like days, the pain finally began to ebb away, and the vigorous burn fell into a thick ache that racked every inch of her body. Tears fell freely from her eyes as she whimpered, breathing ragged and head held in her hands.

"Already had your fill?" Ethir questioned, and Hana tensed, letting out a sob. "That's much too bad, you see, I'm only beginning."

/

Three ponies had gone missing from the royal stables.

The case seemed simple enough, some thief had penetrated their security, and Balin would simply send out soldiers to find the ponies, arrest the thief and bring them back, no problem there.

But then there came the case of food missing from the kitchens, and barrels of water missing as well. Then news arrived that weapons had been taken from the armory, and Balin could not ignore the dread that consumed him as he decidedly made his way up the corridor and to the prince's quarters.

It shouldn't have been surprised that Thorin wasn't there, it really shouldn't. A simple note lay on the stand beside the dwarf's bed that read, _You know where I've gone._

Balin rubbed his face in weariness. Could they not have one day? One? Was there always going to be something that disturbed the peace? This was no time for Thorin to go missing. He should have been on bed rest until full recovery. What if the prince hadn't brought enough food? What if he set out alone? Balin shook his head at the notion, there were _three_ ponies missing, there was surely someone else involved, but who?

He left the quarters then, taking the note with him. He needed to find Thrain.

/

They rode quickly towards the Greenwood, neither saying a word as the sun came from the horizon. Thorin looked over at Hana's brother. Bofur had been resistant at first, the dwarf prince knew that he had a family and job to attend, but after he had explained Hana's situation, the dwarf agreed to go with him wholeheartedly, a fact for which Thorin was grateful.

"When do you say we'll reach her?" Bofur questioned, and the prince shrugged, taking a bite from the meat leather he had stashed in his pocket, it was _incredibly_ good to eat again. "I'd say three days, at the most. We could make it two if we didn't stop for breaks, but I doubt that would be wise. I am uneasy to admit that my strength of now is nothing like it was."

Bofur nodded, staring at the leather bridle in his fingerless gloves. Light rain pattered around them, but other than that the weather seemed to be clearing up quite nicely. Spring was on its way.

"You don't actually mean to let them keep you, do you?" Bofur questioned from his side. "You have an escape plan; you have back up, right?"

When Thorin was quiet, Bofur raised his eyebrows in concern, "You don't mean to actually let them keep you?" he repeated the question, this time a little more forcefully. Thorin searched the expanse of the gravel road ahead. Soon they would be seeing foliage, and then flat land would evolve into dense forest. "I will do what it takes to rescue her," said Thorin quietly, "Whatever that may be I will go through with it."

"But you're the _prince!_" Bofur exclaimed, "Erebor needs you, you can't just abandon your kingdom like that."

"Shall I simply abandon Hana then?" Thorin questioned. "I have made my choice long ago Bofur, and if all you intend to do is condemn it, I would prefer your return home and leave me to this venture on my own."

The miner mumbled an apology, and Thorin turned back to the road. There was a high possibility that Balin would send troops to rescue him, but there was also a possibility that by the time they arrived it would be too late. Was this really how it was to end? With him riding willingly to his death?

But then he remembered that afternoon when Hana came to visit him, sobbing and repeating how much she loved him. He remembered how he felt when he awoke to find that he was healed, and how he felt when he found out that she was missing not long after. He remembered how he felt when he read the letter from the wolf woman, and that same rage and sorrow began to bubble in him again.

No- he would not abandon her, not for the throne of Erebor itself. He knew that as long as Hana was captive, as long as she was suffering, waiting for him, he could not experience a flicker of happiness in his life.

If he planned to live, he did not plan to do it alone.

/

Immelethrin stared ahead at the gates of the Greenwood, a strange sickness taking over his insides. In a few moments he would be facing his sister. In a few moments, he would go to her, and he would have to tell her everything. How he had turned wicked, how her husband had been literally obliterated, how he could have saved Rosindium, but didn't. He swallowed back the bile that threatened to emerge.

Nerythiril came at his side as they crossed the bridge. "It will be alright, Immelethrin." She said to him, resting a hand on the taller elf's shoulder, "You have done nothing wrong. I promise you- it will be alright."

Immelethrin nodded as he pretended to absorb her words, but in reality, he simply felt worse. Taurien wouldn't forgive him, he couldn't even forgive himself. How could he continue to live with the knowledge of what he had done?

They crossed the bridge all too soon and he found himself facing the doors to the city. Surely his sister and niece waited patiently inside. Clenching his fists, the elf stilled his heart, and forced one foot in front of the other. He would face the consequences, however unpleasant. He owed that to his friend.

/

It was quiet at night.

Ethir lay in the bed not far away, dozing softly, and Hana sat with her back against the wall. Every part of her ached, it hurt to move, to breathe, and to swallow. She had taken the elixir three times that day. _Three._ She shuddered at the very thought, oh how she wished the man would simply kill her and be done with it.

She tried to sleep, she needed it, but Hana could not expel the thought from her mind, the voice of Ethir echoing in her head from earlier_, I told him that until he arrived and sold himself to me, I would torture you, _he had said, and Hana felt an uneasiness arise in her as she came to the realization of what this man really had planned. He wanted to take Thorin, she was simply there as bait.

She stared at her ropes; the scars around her wrists from her previous imprisonment with Fradun were now purpled by the continuous strain of being yet again bound. She _needed_ to escape. She needed to find Thorin; she needed to prevent this mess before it even started. There were maybe two days until the prince arrived, and she would need to be out of this place and finding him before then.

Ignoring the screaming of her skin as it ripped, she pulled on the ropes, trying to remove her hands from them. Blood soon began to appear in splotches as the raw area became further irritated, and Hana cringed. There was a window, and a sword on the table near the bed, could she? She had no knowledge of the man's reflexes or strength, but it was worth a try.

Quietly, Hana began to inch herself up the wall, but was forced to stop when her legs gave out, and she went crashing to the floor as pain and aftershock racked her body. She let out a silent scream.

Slowly, the dwarf woman regained her breath, resting her pounding head in her bloodied hands.

Not tonight, not now. It was all too much. She would try again, the moment Ethir had his back turned, she would try.

She did not fall asleep that night.

/

**Sorry for such a long wait between updates! I had a BUTT TON LOAD of homework this week, and since I wasn't getting a ton of reviews I figured I'd just write during the weekend. **

**Dear Guest who recently commented requesting that Hana be incorporated into the Hobbit: I would love to do that, but it just depends on how this story plays out and whether or not it feels right by the end of it. Depending on my business level, this could be finished by December, or finished by next week. I seriously love to write, as long as you guys are enjoying it is all I really care about.**

**Like it? Hate it? Typos? Let me know! Read and Review!**

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

Contribute a better translation


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty Nine: The Escapist

After sun down on the second day, Hana made her escape.

Ethir had ordered her to drink that torturous poison a total of three times before he grew tired of it, and then moved on the kicking her, harshly. Hana covered her mouth with her sleeve as she coughed, blood, caked the area below her nose and at the corners of her mouth, her left eye was swollen and her abdomen had been so damaged that breathing was a challenge in it of itself. She exhaled in a slow gasp as she moved to sit up. Ethir had left her long ago, and was now somewhere outside of the little stone house. Hana was still bound and leaned against the wall, but this time, he had underestimated her.

Although there was neither sword nor blade left in the walls of the home, the dwarf woman had managed to wriggle her hand out of the ropes that held it bound, just one, but it was enough. After hours of tireless pulling, picking, and shifting, she managed to get the other one out as well. Blood and open sores covered her fingers and wrists, but she didn't really care all too much. She needed to warn Thorin, fast.

A faint, dark blue dusk had fallen through the light of the window, and Ethir had still not returned. It had been hours, and Hana was beginning to grow anxious. Surely if he came back to find that she was free he'd beat her severely, and then tie her up to the point of no movement whatsoever, so what was she waiting for? Hana took a deep breath, and ignoring the several protests of pulled muscles, as well as bruised and broken skin, she managed to get to her feet. As quiet as a shadow she moved towards the window, careful to keep each step soft and light, although the floorboards creaked regardless. After what seemed like an agonizing minute, she reached the window, and pulled one foot over the side. She studied the landscape. A circle of red-barked trees surrounded the little clearing with the stone house in the middle. The sun had set, and the night was growing steadily darker. Crickets and birds noised here and there, as well as the soft wind against the still half frozen grass. Winter was nearing spring, but not quite there yet.

She jumped, lying low in the grass for a moment before getting up to scan the area. When she was absolutely sure that no one was around, Hana began to move. Before finding a direction or path, she needed to find the shelter of the trees from Ethir's eyes, and she needed to find it fast. She sprinted; surprised at her newfound speed now that she was not carrying any pack or weapon to speak of. When she made it into the brush she continued to run, she ran until she could no longer see the clearing over her shoulder, until there wasn't a red-barked tree in sight. She ran until the sun had gone down and the forest was pitch black, until her legs gave out and she nearly collapsed on the ground. Only then, did she stop.

Falling flat onto her bruised and scabbed stomach, Hana gasped to catch her breath. The poison had taken its toll on her; Hana shuddered at the mere memory of it. Nothing, in all of her eighty-nine years, had ever brought as much physical pain as that. She had broken her leg once, clear up past the knee when she fell from the roof, but that was minimal pain compared to this, the poison was animalistic torture, and there was no question about it.

"North," she whispered between breaths, coming to sit up. "Erebor is north of here, I need to find north."

She was out of a compass, as well as sunlight. Hana studied her surroundings in puzzlement, but finally she remembered a final resort, the stars. Slowly, painfully, she brought herself up and walked to a nearby oak tree with several strong upper branches. Winter's chill had taken its leaves, so the night sky would be considerably clear. Hana began to climb, ignoring the blood that came from her fingertips as she gripped grooves in the bark and hauled herself up. Everything hurt, every bone, muscle, movement, everything. She wanted to lie down and sleep, she wanted to get a drink of water and build a warm fire, but Hana soon dispelled those thoughts. If Ethir got his way, Thorin would be kidnapped, and Hana would have none of it.

When she reached a branch that was about fifteen feet from the ground and had a clear view of the sky, Hana rested, draping her legs over the side as she leaned against the cold drunk. She closed her eyes for a moment, holding back tears of exhaustion and pain as she attempted to again catch her breath. She nearly jumped out of her skin, however, when she heard voices.

"Why hello there, scum." The voice was low and gravely, with a hint of sarcasm and malice hanging on each word. Hana stiffened, it was Ethir.

"Sir, the dwarf prince is on his way, just as you predicted. He should be here by tomorrow." The other voice was vile and snide, with a strange twinge to it that she didn't recognize. Hana dared to look over the branches at the forest floor below, remaining as still as possible and gripping the tree until excess blood painted the bark maroon. Ethir stood there, wearing a hooded cloak and carrying a lantern in one hand. At the edge of the light, there was a strange, hideous being that Hana could only identify as an orc. It had a low, crouching gait as well as long greasy hair and greyish-green skin. Hana leaned back into the trunk, hoping that the night sky and foliage would cover her from their eyes, she remained absolutely still as she listened to their words.

"Good, good." Said Ethir, "Although I must say that I will be saddened to see that little dwarf girl go, she was such a pleasure to torture." Hana bit her lip at his words.

"If I may ask, sir, what do you plan to do when you get the dwarf prince?"

"I have plans to alert his father, Thrain, and Grandfather, Thror. Then I shall have them do as I command in order to get their son back."

"But- the line of Durin has gone cold, it's not as if Thror will intervene if he has yet another heir, and he has two."

"I know," said Ethir, "But we have a secret plan of action, one that they will never be able to trace." She heard him pause for a moment, and Hana listened in closer, hanging on the edge of every word. "Erebor's riches have grown great in number," he said, "The city is officially the wealthiest of any in all of Middle Earth. Gold flows through the mountain like veins through a body. The dwarves love their gold, but do you know what else loves gold with a love even fiercer than that of the dwarves?"

She heard a small chuckle escape the orc. "You plan to tell Smaug of this treasure?"

Hana could almost hear Ethir smirk, "Quite clever for an orc, aren't we? Yes, I intend to tell the dragon, not only that, but give him directions as well. Not a single soul can know, I do not wish to give _anyone_ a chance to escape his wrath."

Her heart beat at a thousand miles per second. There was a dragon. A _dragon._ The name Smaug did not ring a bell, but Hana had heard enough horror stories of dragons in her childhood to know that the beast would not bade well for the city. She needed to find Thorin, she needed to warn everyone.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, but why are you doing this? You know that Smaug will not share any treasure with you."

Ethir let out a cold, emotionless laugh that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. "Because, chaos will reign soon, and my dark lord grows stronger each day. I only do his bidding…"

_The dark lord…?_

"Go, get your companions and make way to the north. I think it would only be polite to give the prince and escort."

The conversation died after the order, and Hana frantically searched the sky for the northern star. When she had found it, she waited a full ten minutes before daring to descend from her hideout in the branches. There would be no sleep for her tonight, only a great deal of running. Worry and doubt ate at her heart; a dark lord, a dragon, and Thorin's life were all major thoughts that refused to leave her mind.

The moment her feet hit the ground she was off, putting away all thoughts of pain and exhaustion and only focusing on moving one foot in front of the other, outrunning the orcs would be her only choice if she wanted to save them, and she planned to.

"Thorin."

/

The prince of Erebor stretched as the sun broke over the horizon. Bofur had already packed most of their things during his watch, and Thorin was grateful for it. Quietly he put away his bedroll and pulled on his boots. The two exchanged no words as they mounted their ponies and moved further down the road. Thorin tried to focus on the wind that blew against his cheeks, and the way that the yellow sun looked against the salmon colored sky. He would soon be prisoner; he would soon no longer be a person.

He wondered how the exchange would go. Would Hana's captor give them a chance to say goodbye before taking him? Or would they barely be able to make eye contact as they were shoved into the arms of the waiting recipients, Hana to make the journey home and he to be a ransom? The thought scared him, that he'd finish his days locked in a room somewhere, or that he'd be killed the moment Hana and Bofur were out of earshot, but it was a cold, hard reality that he had to face. Thorin still got shivers at the words from the wolf woman's letter. Hana's kidnapper planned to torture her, to hurt her and abuse her, to take away the very life of her soul, and Thorin would not allow that to happen on any terms.

He loved her, and it was as simple as that.

"I'm getting married soon," came a voice at his side, and he turned to see Bofur, lighting a pipe for a morning smoke. "My fiancé is quite the looker, long flowing red hair and big brown eyes, just the right amount of chin hair, with strong arms and a stout build. I reckon we'll live a long happy life together."

"Congratulations." Thorin hissed, trying his best to honestly feel happy for the other dwarf, although each word was like a dagger to his gut. The future he had imagined so often with Hana, one of peace and happiness was fading rapidly; did Bofur feel the need to rub it in?

"Yup, I reckon we'll have a fair number of children as well."

Apparently so.

"I'm happy for you," Thorin said, but was surprised when Bofur spoke up, "No, you're not."

The prince turned, a snide comment already forming on his tongue, but the miner spoke first. "You love my sister, you really honestly lover her, do you not?"

Thorin looked at the bridle in his hands. "I do."

"And yet you plan to simply let them take you, to let Hana live on by herself while you rot away in some foreign prison?"

The prince frowned, "I am protecting her."

"By letting her live on alone?"

"Yes," he muttered, gripping the reigns tighter.

"But do you not want to be with her?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Thorin was surprised at the rising tone in his voice. "I love her, and I plan to save her. If that means that we will not be together, so be it. I will not allow Hana to live out the rest of her life being tortured in a jail, and if you were truly her brother, you'd understand."

Bofur was quiet at the insult, and Thorin immediately felt guilty at his harsh words. But his pride would not allow him to apologize, so Thorin simply stared on at the road ahead.

"I know Hana, Thorin." The miner murmured, "I've known her my whole life, and believe me, she wouldn't want you to do this. She would hate me; she'd never forgive you for going through with this."

"Shall I just leave her then?" Thorin questioned, "Allow her to die a slow and painful death just for the sake of us? For my people?"

When all was silent, the prince looked up at the miner who was staring right back, tears in his brown eyes.

"Yes."

Thorin immediately stopped his pony, bringing his leg over the saddle and sliding to the ground. He didn't look back as he began to walk away from the road, and off into the brush.

"Oi! Where do you think you're going?" Bofur inquired after him, and Thorin didn't bother to look back. "Just a walk, I need to think."

The prince was glad that he was left alone, and walked as far away from the road as he dared without getting lost. Finally, he found a stump and seated himself on it, chewing on his lip as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

However, he was quickly interrupted by the snapping of a twig in the distance.

His ear twitched at the noise, it did not come from the west, where he had just exited the road, but from the south. The noise was far too heavy for an elf or deer; it had to have been a man, or even worse an orc. Thorin let his fingertips brush the handle of his sword.

Another twig snapped, and then another.

"Who goes there?" he growled, springing up and unsheathing his sword all in one movement. His eyes searched the landscape; dead leaves littered the ground and wind whistled in his ears.

_Snap._

"Show yourself!" he demanded, eyeing the place where the noise came from, although the foliage was too dense to make out anything more than twenty feet away. He began to move, sword ready.

Slowly he stepped forward, and as another twig snapped he moved a little more quickly, it had appeared to come from a nearby tall oak tree, with a round, thick trunk.

The snapping of twigs ceased, and he let out a low breath, whoever it was had to have been behind the tree, waiting quietly for him. If it was a friend, they would have shown themselves by now. _An orc or a man,_ he reasoned with himself again, before stepping in front of the tree and swinging his sword, hard.

It latched into the bark of the tree, and eyes traveling over the area, Thorin soon realized who had ducked underneath his blade in the nick of time, and his breath hitched in his throat.

"Hana?"

She looked up at him, her face freckled and bloody as she dizzily tried to get to her feet, and Thorin held out a hand to hoist her up. The sight of her made him inexplicably happy, and also sick.

The expanse of the left side of her face was severely red and splotchy, her eye completely swollen shut. Blood caked beneath her nose and around her lips and chin. The substance could also be seen through the fabric of her tunic, were several large holes had been ripped through, and scabbed over wounds dotted her chest and abdomen. Her neck and hands were bruised, and she seemed to have a limp.

And he kissed her.

She tasted like blood and morning breath, but he didn't care. He kissed her deeply, holding her head in his hands as he pressed their lips together, all the while trying to hold back tears of disbelief and joy. Hana laid her hand weakly against him in an effort to push him back, and immediately he pulled away.

"What happened to you?" he asked, running gentle fingers down the side of her face and through her hair. Her open eye was full of tears, whether of happiness, sadness, pain or exhaustion, he did not know, but he wanted to.

"You're healed," she whispered back, and her voice cracked at her next words, "You're alive."

He nodded, "Thanks to you, yes."

She pulled him into a hug, and he hugged her back, this time taking care to be gentle with her broken and battered body. She began to shake. "You're alive," she said through muffled sobs, "Mahal, you're alive."

"Tell me what they did to you?" he questioned, cringing at how he could feel her ribs through the fabric of her shirt. Had she not eaten at all since she left four days ago? "Tell me Hana…"

She pulled back, her face stern. "There is much I need to tell you, but for now, we need to move towards Erebor, fast."

"But-"

"There's no time," she begged, "I'll tell you on the way."

Thorin swallowed and then nodded. Before she could protest, he looped one arm below her knees and the other around her back as he hoisted her up into the bridal position. He carried her to the road as quickly as he could without stopping for a rest; but it was difficult, he was not the same dwarf he once was.

When they had made it into the clear, a voice rang out, "_Hana!"_

Thorin smiled to himself as he saw Bofur dismount his pony and sprint over to them, coming to help Hana from Thorin's arms and to her feet, her brother immediately pulled her into a tight hug.

"Mahal, I was so worried." He said, and then looked over to the dwarf prince. Thorin shook his head, "Not now, Bofur, we need to go."

"Go? Why?" the miner questioned, eyebrows raised.

Hana's voice came out, lowly and weakly. "We are being hunted."

Bofur stared at her for a long moment, and the nodded slowly, "Right, we should go." he said, coming around to his pony to hoist himself onto it. Thorin carefully made his way to his own, and helped Hana on to the saddle, coming to sit behind her. Thankfully, the beast didn't protest. Now that they had both nearly starved, their combined weight could be no more than Dwalin's. They would be able to travel relatively quickly.

"Turn around," she said, "We need to head north,"

The two obeyed, setting the ponies off in a fast trot, and then in a mediocre gallop. During which, Thorin brought his left arm to wrap around Hana's waist to hold the bobbing girl securely against him.

"A right fool you are Hana, leaving like that," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear as he planted a soft kiss at the top of her dirty crown of hair. She smiled back, and that fact alone filled him with elation. Would they have a future now? He hoped so.

/

**Lots of fluff! Trust me though guys, you're in the eye of the storm. Things only go downhill from here! **

**I haven't had a lot of time to write this story lately, nor have I been getting many reviews, so I hope I'm keeping up with your guy's reading pace. I **_**assume**_** that I'm going fast enough, but if I'm not, just let me know.**

**SMAUG IS COMING**

**Be prepared!**

**Thanks for reading, leave some input please!**

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	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty: Devastation and Optimism

Ethir was let out a deep breath when he opened the door to the little stone home, only to realize that the prisoner he had worked so hard to obtain had vanished. In the corner where Hana had been tied were only a pile of ropes, patches of blood smeared across the floor and wall were she had sat. The sun was barely cresting the horizon, and if he wanted to, he could leave and find her. There was no doubt she went towards the north, the same direction he had sent his orc servants to greet Thorin earlier.

The man ran a hand through his long hair. Dwarves were far more troublesome than he had anticipated.

Would he pursue them then, and take Thorin captive? That seemed like the best choice, if he still wanted to have a hold on Thror. However, Ethir was behind schedule, and every moment he stood still was another moment he could spend finding Smaug's lair. He grinned maliciously at the thought of the dragon. The beast would surely leave for Erebor the moment he learned of the amassed gold there, and surely he would kill whoever came into his path, hopefully most of the dwarves. Hopefully Thror.

But a hope was not enough. He needed to have total control over the king, he needed to make the armies of the Lonely Mountain fall, and he needed to make the people kneel at his feet, stubborn and proud as they were, and watch as he personally beheaded every last father, mother, and child in that city. Leaving the Lonely Mountain an empty devastation of what it once was.

Ethir's hands grasped the hilt of his sword. It was spoken the Smaug's lair was in the North West, and he could easily take a little side trip to visit the prince, allow some orcs to take him captive and hold him prisoner until he returned from consulting with the dragon. Ethir would then chain Thorin to a wall, and have him watch as he took Hana, wrenched back by the hair, and cut through her throat. He'd then laugh as the dwarf collapsed internally, emotions and rage and defeat swelling through every vein in his body. And then Ethir would walk away, leaving the dwarf prince chained to a wall as he was forced to stare at the lifeless body of Hana for hours. Maybe even days.

It would be splendid.

The man exited the house and mounted his steed, a black horse with a strong build and hair cropped short. With a shout, Ethir yanked at the reigns, driving it northward as he made his way to his new target- Thorin.

/

A knock sounded on Taurien's door, a slow, quiet one that immediately made her sick. If it had been Rosindium, he'd simply let himself in, rushing over to give her a deep kiss in greeting and a smile that warmed her soul. This was different. It was almost as if the knock had its own life, or lack thereof. She could feel it reverberate through every bone in her body, the sound etched into her mind like a branding iron against skin. She moved to the door, taking a deep breath in preparation for what was to come, for surely it would not be good. Slowly, Taurien reached for the handle and pulled it open.

She was a little surprised to see her brother there in her doorway, covered in sweat and grime and various traces of blood staining his clothes. His hair was a horrendous mess, and his eyes were swollen and puffy, as if they had been overflowing with tears not a moment earlier. Taurien didn't say a word as she pulled open the door, allowing Immelethrin to enter her home and shutting it quietly behind him.

It took a full minute before he turned to her, eyes bloodshot and face strained in worry and despair. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again, and his eyes screwed shut as tears began to leak from them. Taurien felt her back hit the wall as she stumbled backward, legs seeming to give out beneath her frame. She didn't really need to be told anything; she had figured it out by now.

"I'm sorry." Immelethrin choked, "I am so, so sorry."

Her world was spinning. All at once the walls began to collapse on top of her as she took a few deep breaths, feeling her shaky hands press up against the wall in support. "He's gone…" she whispered quietly, and then her head snapped up so she could meet his eyes. "He's gone, isn't he? Rosindium?"

Immelethrin tried to say something, but the words came out as a gasp mingled with a choke, and he began to sob, his head falling into his torn and tattered hands.

Taurien felt a tear fall from her eye, and then another. Her shoulders began to shake as she screwed her eyelids shut, trying to fend of the offensive liquid that was retreating from them. Slowly, her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground in defeat.

/

That night, Hana took a long, slow wash in the cold waters of the river, letting all of the blood and grime and evidence of torture wash away from her skin. It was cold, extremely so. Winter could not even be considered over yet, and the water was soon turning her lips blue. But Hana couldn't bring herself to care. She needed this, she needed to forget.

She dried off quickly when she emerged from the waters, and went to work at dressing her wounds. The wolf woman's teeth had not sunk into her too deep, but deep enough to leave shallow open patches in the area of her ribs and chest that would surely leave gruesome scars. Her hands shook as she wrapped and placed the bandages, trying her best to not make a sound when she was too rough with a certain area of bruised or broken skin. Finally, hair frozen and teeth chattering, Hana finished, and dressed in her gear, being sure to wrap herself in a thick blanket before making her way back to where the boys were camped, her legs still frigid and stiff from the ice water and soreness of the past days.

Thorin and Bofur did not build a fire, for they knew they were being pursued. They would need to leave before dawn, and they would need to leave quickly. Yet she was still grateful that one of them had laid out some blankets for her, and she grinned widely when Bofur handed her a large roll of bread, as well as a thick strip of dried meat. She settled on the ground between her brother and Thorin, eating the meager meal with the intensity of a starving man. Thorin and Bofur did not stop her; simply let her finish her food before making her speak. Hana took a long draught of water, and pulling the blankets tighter around her shoulders, she spoke.

"I was taken to a little house, in a grove of red-wooded trees. A man named Ethir imprisoned me. He was tall and pale, with sickly yellow hair and a long blade." She gulped, questioning whether she should add in the part about the torture, or how she had been beaten within an inch of her life. Hana opted not to. "I managed to escape last night, and as I was running, I climbed into a tree to find the North Star, so I knew which way you would be coming from."

Thorin looked straight at her while Bofur drew circles in the dirt, both completely quiet as they waited for her to continue her explanation.

"There, I heard footsteps, and laid low for a while. I overheard an entire conversation between Ethir and one of his Orc henchmen." Thorin sat up a little straighter, and Bofur was looking at her now. Hana took a breath, and then continued. "They spoke, and Ethir said something that caught me off guard. He… he said that he was planning to talk to a dragon… a dragon named Smaug." She gulped, "He said he planned to tell Smaug of the treasure in Erebor, and that he planned to send the dragon to our city to drive us out, and take our gold."

Immediately Thorin stood, almost as if a switch had been flicked. "We must go," he said, "We must warn our people!"

Bofur shook his head. "Not now, Thorin."

The prince growled, making Hana flinch. "And why not?"

"Because," her brother elaborated, "We're not far from Erebor, and it's a definite that we'll reach the city before the man even find's Smaug. It's only a few hours of a difference."

"A few hours that could save lives!" Thorin exclaimed, and then grunted as he moved to pick up his pack. "I can leave without you."

"-And what about Hana?" Bofur questioned, making the dwarf prince pause. Hana stiffened, unsure of what to gauge from this situation.

"Hana is still weak, she is still ill. She needs rest. And if those orcs catch up to us without you here, we wouldn't stand a chance."

Slowly, Thorin dropped his back on the ground, and turned to look at her, his blue eyes cold and conflicted. "You are right." He muttered, coming back to sit with them. "I apologize."

"It's fine." Hana said, giving him a reassuring smile. She then turned to meet her brother's eyes. "We need to leave before dawn, and we need to have someone on watch. The orcs could arrive at any time."

"I'll take the first watch." Thorin immediately offered, and both Hana and her brother seemed to be content with that. The dwarf prince stood, stretching, and then looked for a patch of grass to sit in, one that faced the south, where the orcs would likely be coming from. "Get some sleep," he said to them both, "I will wake someone when the time is right.

Bofur promptly rolled over onto his back, settling his hat to hang over the better part of his face as he stretched out, finally stilling when he found a position comfortable enough to sleep in.

Hana stared at her feet for a moment, before grabbing another blanket and making her way over to Thorin, who sat with his back propped up against the tree. He gave her a questioning look as she came to sit beside him.

"You should be resting." He told her, although he didn't hesitate to immediately drape his arm over her shoulder, pulling Hana's weak and shivering frame up against his chest that was slowly beginning to fill out as he continued to eat and regain his original strength. It brought her unending happiness to know that he was recovering.

"Hana, what did they do to you?" Thorin questioned quietly, warm breath ghosting through her slowly thawing hair. "Please," he whispered, "I have to know."

She pulled her knees up to her chest, relaxing into the familiar warmth that the dwarf provided. Hana thought for a moment, pondering which version of the story would bring him the least amount of distress. Then she spoke, just enough for him to hear, but not loud enough to wake her brother who slept not far away.

"He tortured me." She said with a yawn, hoping that the sentence came out in a semi-relaxed manner. Thorin would have none of it.

"What did he do?"

She shrugged. "There was the kicking… and the hitting… but that's it."

Thorin was completely silent, which worried her. Hana looked up to see that his eyes were still, gaze fixed upon the forest in front of him. Slowly, he spoke. "Is that all?"

Hana nodded. "That is all."

He was quiet for the longest time, swallowing as he blinked rapidly. Hana reached for the hand that was not currently wrapped around her, and quickly warmed the cold and calloused skin. Finally, after several moments, he spoke.

"All of this you have suffered for my sake." He said, taking a deep shuddering breath. "None of this would've happened if not for me."

"Do not blame yourself, Thorin." She said, quietly laying her head against his shoulder. "It was my choice to leave; I went on my own free will. Nothing you could have said or done would have stopped me."

"That brings me no ease." He muttered.

Hana sighed, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles. "Find ease in this." She whispered. "Despite what has happened, the hell we've experienced, I am here. And you are here too. We are gaining back our health and we have a chance. That's the most fortune that we have been blessed with since we were in Rohan."

"You're right." He admitted, looking down at her softly. "But it still hurts me to think of what he did to

you."

"It hurts me to remember it." Hana admitted, flinching as the burning sensation seemed to return, making her skin crawl and her throat hoarse. She promptly ignored it, "But it happened, and that won't change. For now, let us move on with our lives."

"There is a dragon coming." Thorin said, leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree. "There is a dragon coming to destroy my home and our welfare as we know it. How are we supposed to fight a dragon?"

She squeezed his hand, moving a little closer to him. "For now, we needn't worry about it." She whispered against his chest. "For now, we simply need to focus on getting home in one piece."

Thorin nodded, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. "Again, you are right." He said. "Get some sleep, Hana. Mahal knows you need it. We will worry about things when the time comes."

She nodded gratefully, settling against him as she pulled the blankets around her, one hand still intertwined with his in her lap. "Goodnight Thorin, son of Thrain."

She could almost sense him smile. "Goodnight."

/

The next morning they were greeted by arrows and steel.

Bofur had a split second to shout at them before orcs emerged from the brush, the dimming moonlight dancing across their shallow and sickly features. An arrow landed into the tree that Thorin was leaned against, a mere millimeter from her cheek.

A warning shot.

He was up in a flash, Hana next to him. He reached for his sword and unsheathed it, making his way to the five orcs that were currently approaching, where the others would be, he did not know.

The first on was easy enough, the beast swung too harshly for his own good, and when Thorin sidestepped and the orcs blade came crashing into the soil, it soon got stuck. As the orc tried to pull it free, Thorin managed to sink his own blade into its gut, and push the beast to the ground just in time to block the strike from another. Bofur let out a shout beside him as the dwarf swung his pick axe wildly, not quite sure of how to wield it as a weapon but succeeding in dismembering one of the orcs nevertheless. Thorin managed to kill this one as well, but only after it had glanced a bit of skin from his forehead.

Hana came from behind and took the orc's blade that had been sunk into the ground. Thorin opened his mouth to shout at her, to tell her she was too weak and vulnerable to fight, but the words were soon stolen from him as all fire and advances from the orcs ceased. He turned to examine the trees.

A man astride a black mare entered the clearing, his long, pale yellow hair and grey skin glinting against the moonlight. Thorin growled. "Ethir."

"So we meet at last, dwarf prince." said the man as he dismounted his horse, his sword already drawn. "I see that Hana has found you." He nodded towards the girl on Thorin's left, who had gone completely stiff. "She was quite the pleasurable guest, you know." said Ethir, voice slick and sinister." She took the torture well, screamed like the little weakling she is. I'm surprised she's even standing, to be honest."

Thorin readied his sword.

"Did she tell you what I did to her?" Ethir questioned, not really approaching nor retreating, just standing his ground with his sword in hand. "Did she tell you of the elixir I gave her?"

Thorin looked over at Hana, who stared at her feet.

"What are you saying?"

Ethir laughed. "You mean she hasn't told you then?" he questioned, and then pulled a little vial from his pocket. He flicked it towards the dwarf prince, who caught it in his hand. "That right there, Thorin, is a mixture of spider venom and Basilisk blood. When drank, it makes the entire body convulse in seizures, the skin seems to feel as if it's on fire, almost as if red rods are ripping the skin and muscle away from bone."

Thorin bit his lip.

"I've tested it before, you know." he was nearing, but Thorin didn't flinch. "On my friends, on my enemies, even on my father. Most died after one dose, some managed to make it to two. But Hana…" he laughed sarcastically, "Well she took it three times. The very fact that she is alive it a marvel. The fact that she can stand and lift a sword is just surreal."

"Monster…"

"And that's not even the best part!" Ethir said, "I tied her to a wall and beat her within an inch of her life, kicking her until she vomited up blood, breaking a few ribs I'm sure. I gave her quite the black eye, and a few scars."

Rage and anger broiled inside of him all at once. Thorin's hands shook. "I will kill you."

Ethir's eyes narrowed- his voice dropping to a dangerously serious tone. "Try."

In a flash he pounced on the man, swinging his sword with all of his strength in a harsh side cut that Ethir blocked with surprising grace. Thorin swung again, ignoring the burning in his lungs and the ache in his muscles. Adrenaline mixed with uncontrollable hatred and a white rage soon overcame him as he swung again and again, each time Ethir blocking with little effort. What should have tired him out in seconds wore on for minutes, the clash of their swords ringing out against the quiet of the dawn. Thorin ducked as the blade nearly took off his head, instead only removing a few hairs. Thinking quickly, Thorin reached for the man's ankle and pulled it out from under him with little remorse. Ethir's back hit the ground hard, his sword falling from his fingers.

Thorin came to stand over him, pressing a foot on the man's chest to pin him to the ground. Ethir looked up at him, a sudden weakness and fear overcame his steely eyes. "Don't kill me." He said, "Please, please don't."

The prince laughed. "You're pathetic."

He then plunged his sword deep into Ethir's chest, piercing his heart and not stopping until he felt his blade go all of the way through and sink into the earth below. Ethir struggled and gasped for a few moments, coughing up blood as his eyes darted wildly from right to left, but soon he stilled, and died.

Thorin pulled back his sword and cleaned it on the grass. The orcs that had once been attacking them were now nowhere in sight, the black mare had by now been scared off by the heated fight between the dwarf and the man. As adrenaline began to ebb away, Thorin felt his knees buckle and his breath shallow. He was far too weak for any of this.

He would have fallen if someone had not been at his side in split second, arm wrapped around his torso and holding him up. Thorin let out a ragged breath. "Hana?"

"Those orcs are still out there." She said, looking over to Bofur who was currently staring at Thorin, stunned. "This is no time to gape. We need to gain distance."

After a moment, Bofur nodded, coming over to take Thorin from Hana, as the later moved to pack up what little provisions they had. Thorin looked down at the lifeless, bloodstained body of Ethir.

"I killed him." He said, "He's dead."

"Aye," said Bofur, helping the prince to stand on his own as he began to regain his strength. "It appears as if there will be no dragon, after all, thanks to you."

Thorin shook his head, spitting on the body of Ethir before going to help Hana onto her pony. "I do not want to think what would've happened had I not killed him." Thorin said, and then smiled up at Hana, who was steadying herself on the pony. "But now that he is gone, it seems as if all will be well."

"Let's head to Erebor." Bofur said, mounting his own pony as Thorin pulled himself up behind Hana. "If we go quickly we could make it by tomorrow morning, and we can talk then."

Surely there would be meeting upon meeting, as well as quarrel and discussion for hours on end between the royal family on several officials, but Thorin couldn't bring himself to care too much in those moments. They were safe, they were all safe. There would be no dragon, nor war, nor death. They would go home, and then…

And then what?

Thorin flicked the reigns of the pony as they followed after Bofur into the north. Hana craned her neck to glance back at him.

"Thank Mahal you're alright." She said, smiling softly. Thorin shook his head.

"Ethir hurt you." He muttered, "He hurt you much worse than you let on."

Hana dropped her gaze, turning away to stare ahead. Thorin said nothing, only let out a deep sigh as she leaned back against him in exhaustion. They were both far too tired and weak for riding, let alone fighting. But they'd make it, they had to.

That night he learned the depth of her pain. They lay out in the grass of a field, letting the ponies graze. An orc hadn't been sighted once since the fight, so the company was a little more at ease. Hopefully the death of their leader had diminished whatever intentions they had for the dwarves. Bofur was sleeping nearby, snoring a bit loudly but not to the point of causing irritation. Thorin watched as Hana stirred in her sleep beside him, whimpering and cursing as she whispered strained, "pleases," and "stops." After a few moments, he couldn't take it anymore, and decided to shake her awake.

She sat bolt upright the moment he touched her shoulder. She turned over to him, breathing heavy and eyes pleading.

"Sorry." She said quietly. Shaking her head as she lay back down, pulling the wool blanket up to her chin. "Sorry."

"Whatever he did to you, whatever happened in that house… it's over now." He assured, draping an arm over her and pulling her close to him.

rubbed a hand over her face. "It hurts, Thorin." She whimpered weakly, and the words left his heart in shattered pieces. "I can still feel it, the burning and the searing and the sizzling of skin." She shook, "I can feel it."

He hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he rubbed circles into her back, trying to calm her. "I'm sorry." He said, "I should've come sooner, I shouldn't have let you meet the wolf woman. I shouldn't have let this happen."

She let out a little broken sob, but only one. She seemed to bite off any other waves of tears that came over.

"Just think," he said, trying to change the subject, "Soon we'll be home and you'll be able to see your brother's, and you'll be safe, and you'll never have to go through anything like this ever again."

Hana still shook despite his words, and Thorin grew quiet in defeat, finally settling for threading a hand through her hair while he hummed quietly. He continued to do so until she had fallen asleep against him.

/

**Hey y'all!**

**Also, I am at a fork in the road. I have been avoiding a final decision on where I want this to go, but this is the point where I have to choose one way or another. Option one is to leave Smaug out of this completely, and go totally AU where Erebor was never taken and everyone lives happily ever after. Option two is this: I have a different plotline that will lead me to a still AUish happy ending, but with a little more angst. The later of these will fit in with the events of The Hobbit. Any preferences? If nobody has a suggestion I'm going to choose, but I'm just letting you guys know what my plans are for this fic. Just let me know what you think, or if you have any ideas of your own!**

**GeekatHeart21, I'm glad you're enjoying my story! I looked up the song "Battleships," by Daughtry after reading your comment, and I find myself agreeing with you that the lyrics and tone really fit these two. I hope I can meet your expectations with this story. Thanks for the review!**

**As always, dearreader, thank you for the lovely feedback. I know I can count on you to give me a valid opinion when needed. You're seriously amazing :] !**

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	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty One: Far Horizons

Immelethrin breathed a deep sigh, shouldering his backpack as he quietly picked his way through the silent forest of the Greenwood. He resisted the urge to shout, to curse and to hit something, really hard.

Taurien had of course urged her forgiveness to him, telling him that it wasn't his fault and that it was alright; and maybe he even believed her. But Immelethrin could see it, the vagueness in her eyes, as if she was staring at a wall. The way she had to pause every other word to take a deep breath, steadying her emotions. Taurien had forgiven him on the outside, but they would never share the same bond they once had.

After the second day, he could bare it no longer. The silence that she had given him was driving him utterly mad. His sister would only sit in her room, cradling Tauriel and speaking softly to the babe. And when he'd go to talk to her, her answers were brief and to the point. She'd never look at him.

Why didn't she look at him?

Where was his home now? He didn't know. Of course, he could return to the desert to live out his previous life. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to look up to the stars to find south, or to find any direction for that matter. The elf just walked, feet hitting the solid earth as he tried to mull his thoughts, focusing on the beauty of the trees and the moonlight against the river, and not the black hole and mangled bodies from that doomed day so long ago.

_It would be easier to die_, he thought to himself, _If only I could escape this hell._

/

Balin paced back and forth between the two columns that bordered each side of the bridge. Thrain knew, Thror knew, Dwalin knew, the entire council knew. So why was nothing being done about it?

"Don't worry." Oin said from beside him. "If Thorin's eating properly, this journey will not have _too _negative an effect on him."

Balin shook his head. "It's not his physical health I'm upset about, well, in a sense yes. But his emotional health is edging on my nerves."

Oin raised a bushy eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. Balin eyed the bridge for a few moments, trying to formulate his words, and finally he said, "Thorin can get himself out of most situations. If he's really captured by Ethir, I'm sure that he could escape, or that our armies could free him. But what if Ethir kills Hana? Or doesn't let her go? What if he has done something vile and terrible to her like he said he would?" Balin stared at his feet. "You've seen Thror's deterioration since his wife died, and Thrain is also headed in that direction. How would Thorin fare?"

Oin brought a pipe to his lips, taking in a deep breath of smoke. "Thorin's strong. He knows when to choose duty over emotions."

Balin nodded, "I should hope so."

"Excuse me!"

Both of the elder dwarves turned to see a younger, soldier dwarf, one that bore the armor of a gate-guard. He was flushed in the face, beard barely reaching his chest that was heaving for air. Dwarves were not accustomed to long distance running, as was evident.

"Balin, sir." He said, crossing the bridge quickly and approaching. Balin waited, perhaps a little too impatiently, for the news. It could be horrifying, Hana could have returned alone, or they could have found a body of one of the two. He shuddered at the thought. No- he refused to accept that.

"Sir, Prince Thorin and his company have arrived." He breathed, and the old dwarf felt his heart skip a beat at the good news. Mahal be blessed!

"Where?" he begged, grabbing the dwarf's arm and shaking him. "Where are they, and are they alright?"

The dwarf shook his head. "One seems fairly injured, almost not able to walk upright. The rest are fine, and are waiting for you just outside the gates."

Balin nodded, glancing at Oin in a silent invitation to tag along. The dwarf nodded. "Show me where they are."

/

Thorin rested against the wall of his city, letting his sore and tired limbs fall loosely to the ground as he leaned back. Bofur had taken the ponies somewhere inside, and gone to announce their presence. No doubt Balin would soon appear, red with worry and anger, but altogether pleased at the prince's safe return.

Hana was resting in the grass beside him, laid flat out on her back with her forearm shielding her eyes from the sunlight. She was wounded, sore, and undoubtedly exhausted. She deserved a good rest and was in desperate need of a wash, as well as medical attention. He let a hand thread through her long, tangled mess of blonde hair that was spread out in the grass before him. He had done it. He had brought her back. Maybe not altogether whole, but she was back.

And they had a chance.

Hana cracked open a blue eye to give him a glance. This was the first time they had been properly alone in weeks.

"Tell me you feel alright?" she questioned, tensing her arms as if she were about to sit up, and then favoring not too. Thorin continued to thread a hand through her hair, idly braiding it out of habit of handling his own.

"I feel fine." He assured, and it was true. Of course, he was tired, and a little dizzy from the lack of sleep and proper food as he so desperately required, but he had no wounds save the cut on his forehead, but that was in no way life-threatening.

"You should be more careful." She said, coming to sit up next to him, "Next time you could-"

He cut her off, grabbing her hands and pulling her forward in to a brief yet warm kiss. Why he did it? Thorin wasn't sure. Maybe he was just concerned about what their future held now that they were home and at the mercy of others, instead of their own will as it was in the wild. His father could say the word and have her completely removed from his life, never to see him again. Whether or not he would allow their relationship was an entirely complex element in itself.

She pulled back, smiling down at him through her dirtied and bloodied face. "Unexpected as it was, I enjoyed that kiss." Thorin grinned in response, "As did I."

Hana sat back on her heels, suddenly a little shaky as she put a hand to the ground to steady herself. Not a moment later Balin appeared, sweaty and red from the effort it took to run, and Oin scrambled behind to keep up. Thorin stood to greet the dwarf who immediately pulled the prince into a friendly embrace.

"Thorin, praise Mahal you're alright!" he said, pulling back. "Your father would've had my head, don't you dare leave me like that ever again!"

Thorin laughed, "I don't intend to."

Balin paused, looking down at Hana. "Are you alright?" he questioned, seeming to notice the paleness of her face and the blood caked on every surface of her tunic. Thorin helped her get to her feet, trying to ignore the way she winced in pain at every movement. She had to be completely covered in bruises, not to mention the wounds on her abdomen.

"Take her to a doctor." Thorin ordered, and Oin nodded, hobbling over to help her into the gates of Erebor, already calling for a medic as they entered. The prince stepped into a pace next to Balin as they began to follow.

"We need to see Thrain immediately." Said the elder dwarf as he picked up the pace, and Thorin did his best to follow despite lack of energy and breath. "He'll be overjoyed."

Thorin nodded, truly excited to see his father. Although he could not help the sense of sadness fill him as he watched Hana make her way to the hospital wing with Oin. He fingered the vial in his pocket that Ethir had thrown him. How he wished he could resurrect that bastard and give him a taste of his own medicine.

/

Hana let out a deep sigh from where she lay amongst white sheets in a white bed, a little section of the huge room that made up the hospital wing. Patients and people milled about, some hurrying and some taking their time. Oin had cleaned and bandaged her wounds, giving her salves to help the healing of the bruises, and the soreness in her ribs. There were undoubtedly a few broken, as he had said, but there was nothing they could do but let time heal it.

She could get up and leave whenever she desired, but Hana was so incredibly sore that she was not sure how long she could make it without having to take a break. Oin had given her a great deal of pain relieving herbs, and she was just waiting for them to take effect.

Hana found her thoughts drifting to Thorin. Now that they actually had a chance of a future, that neither was dying nor in mortal danger (As always seemed to be the case since they had met) perhaps they could find a way to convince Thrain to let them court, without the rejection or disownment of the prince.

But she knew deep down, that it was highly unlikely. Thorin was a prince, of pure blood and good background. Hana was a half-blood who didn't even know her father, who sold toys at the market to make a living. She would be bad for his image and for his family affairs. Despite how much she loved him, if it came down to it she would let him go.

Erebor needed a good king, one who was not made of greed and pride; one who put his people first and his gold later. Thorin would be that king. She just knew it.

As if on cue, a much cleaner, better kempt Thorin entered her vision. He gave her a nod, going to sit on the stool at her bedside.

"Any better?" he questioned, and Hana shrugged, "It's been worse. What did Thrain say to you?"

The dwarf raised an eyebrow. "How did you know that I went to see my father?"

"Well, where else would you go?"

Thorin crossed his arms over his chest. "Perhaps I just fancied a bath."

Hana snorted, "You? Bathe?"

He grinned, shaking his head. Hana smiled softly in return. "What did you speak to him about?"

Thorin leaned back, stretching his muscles as he linked his fingers behind his newly washed head. "I told him what I did, that I left in the middle of the night with Bofur. I told him that we found you, killed Ethir, and are now home safely."

"What about Smaug?"

Thorin closed his eyes for a moment. "I told him that too, that we should consider altering our treasury, that there are people who are after it, a dragon would've destroyed our city as we know it. He assured me that he'd talk to Thror and the council, and then not too subtly urged me to take a bath."

"Quite right he was too-" Hana said with a grin, looking down at her scrapped knuckles that rested in her lap. "Is that all then? Nothing else?"

The prince shrugged. "No doubt there will be meeting upon meeting, discussion after discussion, and a great deal of surveillance over me from now on, but other than that, I feel as if this whole ordeal is finally over. We may finally have some peace."

She felt the need to ask, _And what about us?_ But held off. They could do with a few days rest and recovery before worrying about such things. No doubt Thrain's answer would be the same no matter what.

"Shall I escort you home?" Thorin questioned, standing and offering out a hand. Hana took it, and slowly eased herself to her feet. The pain herbs had finally kicked in, and the numbness, albeit strange, was a good alternative to the previous thick ache that she had been swallowed by. With a hand on the small of her back for support, Thorin led her out of the hospital wing, and onto the streets of Erebor.

She felt a blush creeping up her neck as they went further into the city, and more and more people began to turn and look at them, to whisper or point when they thought she couldn't see. Thorin, however, remained perfectly cool and collected, his arm still around her back in support as they slowly but steadily moved towards the civilian neighborhoods.

After many moments she grew weak and dizzy from her lack of sleep and food over the past week. Thorin seemed to sense this, and tightened his grasp. "Almost there," he whispered encouragingly, and Hana pressed on.

After what seemed like an age they reached the little wooden door and porch that led to her house. The lights could be seen dimly through the windows, and faint voices of children at play could be heard.

"Goodnight to you then," she said as his arm fell to his side. Was this goodbye? What was going to happen?

Thorin looked at his feet for a moment before looking back up at her, grey eyes like a calm and steady tide in the ocean, urging her on yet keeping her steady. "I'll visit you as soon as I can." He assured, and Hana nodded. "I know you're busy Thorin. Don't press yourself for the likes of me."

The prince shook his head. "You are truly ridiculous."

Maybe it was the fear, the uncertainty of whether he would stay true to his word and visit, or forget her completely as he became more submerged in his princely duties; perhaps it was the swell of happiness that he was alive and safe, or the swell of sadness that this may be goodbye. Whatever it was, Hana didn't question the reason for her gently wrapping her arms around the prince, letting her aching head rest on his chest as he let out a warm breath against her neck. This was far too perfect to be a false hope. This was far too perfect to be a lie.

"Thank you," he said quietly, and Hana smiled into the thin fabric of his shirt.

After a long moment they parted, Hana quietly opening her door despite the voices screaming at her to turn around, to grab him and kiss him and never let him go. But she stilled those voices. Thorin was only ever a dream; he could not give her what she sought after.

And yet she kept on looking.

/

**Hello my friends!**

**I'm sorry for my lack of recent updates. LIFE. IS. CRAZY.**

**So, I won't tell you guys where I'm sending this plot just yet, but you'll know soon enough. Just to put you guys at ease, there will be an alternate ending that I'll publish after I finish this, just so you can kind of pick and choose what happens. If that makes any sense :]**

**HuntressofHope, Thorana angst? Haha does this mean that Thorin and Hana are a ship? I FEEL SO ACCOMPLISHED! :] I hope you're enjoying this story!**

**Michi Shojo, oh how you always compliment me. Every time I read one of your reviews my self-esteem goes through the roof. I'm SOOOO happy that you find this story entertaining. I've been feeling kind of iffy about it ever since I posted it, but if one person enjoys this story, then that gives me a reason to write. Thank you :]**

**GUYS GUYS! Okay, I promise you, Thorin and Hana will pretty much have a happy ending. There's still going to be some bumps in the road, I'm still going to give them angsty shit, because that's what I do best, but I won't make them suffer for much longer. ;]**

**Thanks for reading! Leave a review!**

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	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty Two: Of Happy Endings and New Beginnings

Kenaii sighed as she looked through the patterns laid out on Bofur's table. Hana was at her side, as well as a tailor-woman who would be sewing her wedding dress. Her fiancé was working in the mines as of now, and Hana had invited her over in preparation. The wedding would occur next week, if all went well.

The colors and swirls in each square of fabric gave her a headache, and each time she chose one, the seamstress would chime in that "It doesn't fit your hair color." To which Kenaii would resist the urge to roll her eyes.

Maybe she could shave her head and buy a wig. She almost laughed at the notion, a foolish one indeed.

In the end, she picked a cream colored fabric, with sparkling gems embroidered into rose shapes throughout. Not particularly because she wanted to, but because the seamstress insisted.

The bustling dwarf woman took Kenaii's measurements, gathered her fabric, and then set off, promising a dress by the end of the week. Kenaii rain a hand through her unkempt red hair, yawning deeply.

"Most brides are excited for a wedding," Hana commented from where she sat, bottle feeding Bumble. Kenaii smiled weakly.

"Don't be mistaken, I'm enthralled- really I am. Just a little too tired of the preparations." She assured, and Hana laughed.

"Oh, you should see Bofur. He's overjoyed… I could hardly get him to sit still while we made the invitations." She looked over, a twinkle in her eye. "Yes, he loves you alright."

Kenaii cocked an eyebrow. "And what of you, Hana? I've been told that the prince himself is after you."

The blonde blanched. "How did you know?"

"Don't worry," she said with a laugh, "Bofur told me. I don't think anyone really suspects anything."

A look of relief swelled over Hana's face. "Praised be Mahal." She muttered, and Kenaii grinned, suspecting that there would very soon come a day that she'd be helping Hana pick out fabric for a dress, and helping her create invitations. Would that be soon? She couldn't say. But there was one thing she knew regardless, because there were things that Kenaii just knew.

That day would come.

/

Thorin tentatively knocked on the door that led to his father's study- and a firm voice inside granted him entrance. The room might as well have been a royal library, with shelves upon shelves of books and maps and records, far too many for him to process.

Thrain glanced up at his son from the papers he was currently signing, his back hunched over the stone carved desk.

When Thorin had first returned from his quest to rescue Hana, he was greeted with exclamations of love and gratitude, Dis practically launched herself at him, while his father and Frerin stood back, smiling. He had made it home safely, and according to Oin, he was healed. Of course- there was a great deal of muscle he needed to gain back, as well as energy, but the important thing was that he would recover.

"Father," he said slowly, pulling a chair up to the front of Thrain's large desk and sitting in it. "I have a request."

"Go on," Thrain said, eyes back to studying. Thorin had grown used to this long ago- the fact that his father had little, if no time to be with his children. And after his mother died, Thorin learned to be self-reliant. It was the only thing he could do.

He took a breath. The request was radical, perhaps the most ludicrous thing he could ask, and yet he asked it anyways.

"When I was dying, you promised me that I could stay with Hana until the end of my days." He said slowly, and Thrain nodded. "That I did."

The prince bit his lip. "Does that still apply?"

His father heaved a deep sigh, finally putting down the document he had been studying to look at his son directly in the eye. Thorin kept his back straight, and did not falter. Thrain rubbed a meaty hand over his face, obviously tired from a day's mental stress.

"Thorin," he started, "You know that circumstances change. Hana is not a candidate for any noble-dwarf in marriage, let alone the Prince of Erebor."

"But why not?" Thorin hissed. "I understand that marriage brings political ties, but Dis is already married to an official from the Iron Hills. With enough effort, Frerin could find love as well. It's not as if he isn't willing."

"But you're the heir! Not Dis or Frerin." He said, "You have a social status to maintain."

"What does social status mean if I'm not happy?" Thorin questioned, firm yet humble. "I'd rather be a lowly commoner and happy, than the king of Erebor and miserable."

"It is your duty to be king." Thrain chided, "Therefore it is your duty to marry well."

"Hana is stronger and wiser than any woman you could offer." He said, "She would make an excellent queen."

Thrain nodded, "I do not doubt that. However, strength and wisdom do not constitute for nobility."

"What would the people do- father?" Thorin questioned. "By the time I'll be king, they'd already be accustomed to the fact that I had married someone from a lower class. It's not as if they will revolt, simply because I did not choose a bride whom is from a rich and powerful background."

"It's a no, Thorin." Thrain said sternly, "I am sorry."

The prince felt his heart drop. "Father…"

"I have bills to sign," The king-to-be said. "I would prefer it if you left."

Thorin wanted to hit someone, break something, to curse and to yell, but in his heart he knew that would not plead his case. Quietly excusing himself, he left the study, and moved at a quick pace towards that of Balin's.

He didn't bother to knock- he was beyond that. Upon opening the door to the humble abode, Balin looked over and greeted him from where he stood fumbling through books on the shelf.

"What is it- lad?"

Thorin ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. "Balin, you will not agree with me about this."

"And why not?" he asked, taking down the encyclopedia, flipping though it briefly, and then placing it back on the shelf.

"I do not wish to part from Hana."

The old dwarf paused and then turned back, raising an eyebrow. "I am well aware."

"I need to convince my father to allow this." He said in frustration. "Please, help me."

"You know the way of kings." Balin said, placing a book of trade records down on the desk. "You know that I cannot help you."

"Balin, I beg you," Thorin said the last part quietly, half hoping the dwarf wouldn't hear. "I cannot bear to part from her, please, talk to my father. Change his mind."

Balin scoffed. "What makes you think that he'd listen to me over his own son?"

"I don't know." Thorin muttered. "It's my final resort."

"And if he says no? What if Thrain refuses- what then will you do?"

The prince bit his lip. "I would not like to imagine such a thing."

Balin heaved a deep, tired sigh. "Alright, I'll speak to him. But I cannot promise that I will succeed."

Thorin placed a hand on his friends shoulder. "Thank you."

/

Balin wasn't quite sure what he'd gotten into. Perhaps he should've just told Thorin no, perhaps he should've told him to face the facts, that his dreams would not be a reality.

Damn his weak heart.

"Come in." Thrain grumbled from the other side of the door as Balin knocked. Quietly, he shuffled in.

"Ah, Balin, what can I do for you?" The dwarf questioned. He swallowed.

"I have come to advise you, sir." He said, coming to sit in front of the messy desk. "Thorin is in great distress."

Thrain's smile left him. "I know this."

"I just wanted to add sir, that it may not be an entirely bad thing for Thorin to pursue this commoner girl."

The king-to-be sat back in his chair. "How so?"

Balin huffed. He had been working on his argument for several minutes, and after finally finding a way to put it together, had gained enough confidence to knock.

All of that confidence was gone now.

"My King, there is such a wide gap between royalty and commoners, that they view you as untouchable, almost abstract. If Thorin were to create a significant bond with a commoner, that would give them the idea that they're somehow connected to you, as their future king. They will not be as quick to resent, knowing that the line of Durin is not pride driven, and that they view their people on the same level as them."

Thrain rested his head in his hands. "I hate it when you do this- make me want to change my mind, right after I've made it up."

A flicker of hope went through Balin, and it was enough to keep him talking.

"Thorin is a passion driven dwarf. He was willing to endure a winter storm for her, to leave while on the verge of death to rescue her. When Thorin finds something or someone to be important, he does whatever in his power to keep them safe. He does not falter in the eyes of whatever enemy. Those are good attributes of a ruler, are they not? If we took her away from him, he would lose that, maybe not all of it, but an amount significant enough to change his personality. Hana keeps him grounded, she keeps him motivated and driven. Surely that cannot be a fault for him?"

Thrain nodded, "I understand your point."

"You've seen for yourself, her worthiness. Hana subjected herself to days of torture, to possible death, simply to save your son. Sir, she does not bear him any ill will. She would only be his support."

"This contradicts our tradition." Thrain muttered, looking up at Balin. "It does so greatly. But I will dwell on your words, and give you an answer. Perhaps in the morning."

"Thank you sir." Balin said, rising from his chair and making his way out of the study as quietly as he could.

Thorin would either be very pleased, or very anxious. Probably both.

/

Thrain, son of Thror, quietly made his way over to the mines to check on his silver deposits. It was a grand ability to leave the office after being hoarded in a room for so many hours, and to stretch his legs and release his headache.

Many dwarf's he passed greeted him kindly, a few of the more proper one's bowing. He'd nod and wave occasionally, but was far too tired to put in much of a response.

"Sir!" said the head miner- Nahf if he remembered correctly. The large dwarf gave a short bow in greeting. "What can I do for you?"

"I have come to analyze our silver deposits." He said, "What has been our rising percentage- if any?"

Nahf shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "I'd say an easy ten percent, the deeper we go the more we find. We've found a particularly large area of silver, right over on the east wing. Would you like me to show you?"

"No, thank you. I will take your word." Thrain said. "That is all I needed to know. Come and tell me if there is any significant fluctuation."

"Yes sir." Nahf said with an energetic nod. "Good day to you!"

"And to you."

Thrain turned and began his walk back to his quarters. It had been a long day- one that he was eager to be done with.

He stopped, however, when he noticed a familiar blonde dwarf-woman, guiding a small child by the hand to the civilian neighborhoods. Acting on instinct, before he was quite aware of what he was doing, Thrain had called out to her.

"Hana!"

She looked over to him, and waved in greeting before bending down and whispering something to the dwarfling, sending him on his way to the neighborhoods. She soon turned and approached; a small smile on her face.

"And how are you- sir?"

Thrain hesitated; no one had bothered to ask him that question, not for quite a long time. "Er- good." He responded. "And you? How are your wounds healing?"

She shrugged, "I'm still a little stiff, but nothing I can't manage. What can I do for you?"

Thrain glanced around. It was getting late, little to no people were out roaming the streets at this hour. He supposed it would be suitable to be in her company. "Walk with me?" he suggested, and she nodded, coming up beside him as they slowly weaved their way through the empty streets of the city. The quiet was almost eerie.

"Thorin has spoken of you to me." said the dwarf slowly. "He's begged me to allow you two to stay together."

He saw her cheeks redden as she grew flustered, but Hana soon shook it off. "I have discussed the terms of our courtship with Thorin, sir." She said slowly. "He knew the consequences from the beginning, we both did."

Thrain nodded, she did indeed have good sense. "If I may ask- why should I allow you two to remain together?"

The girl beside him pursed her lips, running a hand through her hair as she thought. Finally, she said, "I can tell you honestly that I am not of noble status. I am sure you're aware. But I can also tell you honestly that I love your son, and that I would stand by him through anything. I only wish to be there for him."

Thrain eyed the carved marble road. Balin had been right- at least about one thing.

"But," Hana chimed beside him, "I understand his duty, and I understand your concern for him. If you ask me too, I will break of the courtship."

"Break it off?" Thrain questioned, and Hana nodded. "Is that not what you came here to ask me?"

The king-to-be heaved a sigh. Was that what he wanted? He wasn't sure anymore. At first it had been pity that drove him to permit his dying son to stay with her, but Thorin was no longer dying. He had a kingdom to rule, obligations to abide by, and yet… he glanced at Hana, and yet he still felt driven to give his son this privilege- to allow Thorin this little happiness. Being a king was difficult, being a king with no one as support was extremely difficult. Being a king with someone you did not love as your spouse was hell.

He knew this, better than anyone else.

"I am not sure what I will do, Hana." said Thrain. "I want my son to be a worthy king, one beloved and praised by his people. I want him to be well remembered."

"As do I…" she said slowly.

"But as much as I wish that, I also wish him to be happy. And I believe you will be able to accomplish that."

He could not miss the smile that she so poorly hid. He could only remember a similar smile, on a similar woman. One that he had given up for social status, for the approval of his father and his people.

He could not do this. He loved Thorin far too much.

"I think…" he started slowly. What would Thror say? It was not as if the dwarf king would be around to see his grandson take the throne. He would be unhappy, maybe even furious, but of all things he had control over, Thorin's life was not one of them. His father could have power over the treasury, the army, and the natural resources, but he could not dictate Thorin's choices. Neither could Thrain.

"I think, you should find Thorin." He said, resolve becoming firm. "Find him and tell him that I approve."

Hana stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide. "Do you really mean…?"

Thrain nodded before he could change his mind, "Yes."

He almost toppled over at the sudden weight she hit him with, wrapping the dwarf into a strong hug before letting go, grinning ear to ear. "Thank you," she said, taking off in a run towards Thorin's quarters to give the good news. "Thank you!"

Thrain scratched his head, wondering if he had just done the right thing. He was caught between a sense of happiness, and a sense of awkwardness. Shrugging it off, Thrain began the trek home. Finding new strength as an immense emotional weight was lifted from his shoulders.

/

Hana supposed it would be inappropriate to bother the dwarf prince at this hour, it was after all, the time that most dwarf's had settled into bed. But she could not contain the excitement that was overwhelming her. She feared that if she waited until the next day, she may implode.

Luckily, Thorin was still dressed in his day clothes when he answered the door, not asleep, but perhaps getting ready to go that way.

"Hana?"

"I have a message from your father." She said as he let her in. She saw his blue eyes widen at her words, and what could have been a sense of fear flash across them.

"What has he said?"

"He's ordered me to tell you, that he approves."

Thorin's features grew shocked. "He _approved?_"

Hana nodded, hardly able to contain her relief. "He accepts our courtship."

The prince's tense features slacked, a look of peace coming over his face. "Praise Mahal!" He exclaimed, grasping her by her waist and sweeping her into the air, spinning her in a circle as he let out a deep laugh. She smiled as he set her down, his hands still resting on her waist.

Without thinking twice, she gripped him by the shirt collar and pulled him down into a kiss.

/

**I think it only appropriate to give these guys a bit of a break after all of the hell I've put them through! :] I'm thinking a little fluff in the upcoming chapters won't hurt too much. What about you?**

**Has anybody read "The Way of Kings" by Brandon Sanderson? I find it pretty awesome. Just throwing it out. ;]**

**So give me some feedback guys… my story's growing closer to an end. Good? Bad? Too much angst? Too little angst? Anything you want to see happen before I close? Lemme' know! I like to take requests.**

**Read and Review! **

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	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty Three: Gravity

The wedding was beautiful.

Of course, the priest who wed them was old and little slow to speak, but Hana didn't mind too much, she was simply enjoying the way that Bofur's eyes lit up every time he looked at Kenaii in her beautifully tailored dress, the way he smiled like an idiot, and the way he held her hand throughout the entire ceremony.

A surprisingly large crowd had gathered. Bofur's extended family was numerous, as well as Kenaii's. Their friends and coworkers from the mine showed up, almost numbering fifty. Hana wondered if there would be anyone in the mines at all today. Of course, in the front row she sat with Bafur at her side and Bambur and Bombur a few seats down. She held the little Bumble in her lap. He was big enough now to sit by himself; it'd soon be a year since the day of his birth.

Thorin wasn't there, but she wasn't surprised. The prince had several duties to catch up on all after all of the work he'd missed in his absence. He had come earlier, before the ceremony had begun, to give Bofur his blessing and well wishes, and then politely excused himself to take care of business.

By the time they were finally told to kiss, the crowd was already on the edge of their seats. As the dwarf's lips met, they all cheered; standing and clapping. With tears in her eyes, Hana approached the couple to give them both a tight hug, her little brother's following.

All in all, it was a lovely day, one that she didn't want to forget.

"You look beautiful," she commented to Kenaii after some of the ruckus had died down, and the crowd was now ambling about, giving their congratulations and making small talk. She meant it, the redhead wore a long, flowing dress and had several gems weaved into her hair. The dwarf woman offered her a genuine smile. "You have my thanks, Hana." She said, and then moved to address some of the guests that had been waiting to talk to her.

Perhaps she'd have a day similar to this one, perhaps she could have gems weaved into her hair and a beautiful dress. Perhaps she could listen to the long drawn out speech of an elderly priest-dwarf, all the while grasping Thorin's hands. It was rather sappy, yes. But she wouldn't mind it, not in the least.

/

Thorin couldn't help the sick feeling that arose in his gut when he entered the treasury.

He had come to speak to Thror, regarding Hana. He had already made up his mind to court her, but he did wish to tell his grandfather and king in person, lest a rumor get to him first.

The treasury was an awesome sight. Gold rose to the very ceiling, coins, dish wear, jewelry, and everything in between could be seen in the neatly organized piles, which encompassed the entire grand hall. He had seen the gold once; when he was younger, and had never felt the urge to visit the treasury since. Now that he had, he knew why.

Thror stood in the very middle of it all, a small pathway cleared for him, just to walk and gaze at the magnificent collection of the precious metal he had acquired over so many years. The dwarf, clothed in his kingly apparel, moved in slow circles, eye sparkling in delight as he took in the sight of his treasure. It was the look you'd give your spouse, your child, or a good friend. It was the look you'd give to a sibling, or someone who's dear to you. It was the look of utter love.

And lust.

He began to feel nauseous. This was all wrong- all of it. Thror was changing, had already changed. He was leaving his mind, and wandering into the abyss of madness and greed. He was no longer the dwarf who taught him how to use an axe, or the dwarf who set him up on his lap to read stories of the old days. This was not his grandfather. This was not his king.

His heart falling, his head aching, Thorin slowly turned around. He could not talk to Thror, he could not be here. It just wasn't right. Quietly, careful not to alert his grandfather who was in the midst of an episode, Thorin moved away from the treasury, and back into the real world.

As if a switch had been flicked, he immediately felt better. A rush of air went through his lungs and his vision began to clear up. Not a moment later, a voice called to him. It was his brother's.

"Thorin!" Frerin bellowed from the left, running like a mad man. The elder prince whirled around, immediately concerned, for Frerin never yelled, nor ran. "What is it?" he questioned as his brother approached, red in the face.

The younger dwarf grasped his shoulder, and through short, ragged breaths said "Dis is having the baby."

/

Hana pondered if she was right to even be there, waiting in the hall of Dis's medical quarters, listening to the shouts and crashing from the inside. Thorin, Thrain, and Frerin stood out there with her, not able to stomach the sight of their sister in labor; even the sound of it was turning them green.

Thorin had run into her on the way, and without much of an explanation save the word, "baby," he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. He was nervous- they all were.

A dwarf she had not seen before, a stately blonde one with a braided mustache and a brown set of furs stood with them, a little Fili at his side. She could only guess that he was Dis's husband, the resemblance between him and their first born was utterly uncanny. Fili seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation, for he simply sat on the ground, quietly fiddling with his fingers. His father was pale, looking terrified to say the least, and she didn't blame him.

Dis was being tended to by perhaps the best doctors in Erebor, receiving the most advanced medical attention any dwarf east of Moria could ask for. But still, birth was always a risk. It was a strenuous, painstakingly difficult procedure that could very easily take the life of the mother, or child, even both, if something went wrong.

The fact that she was screaming didn't help.

They stood quietly for three hours, staring at their feet and trying to ignore the sounds of agony coming from the room ahead. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door opened to a flushed faced Oin, covered in blood and various substances. They all gave him the same question with their eyes, anxious to know the fate of the dwarf princess and her child.

Oin grinned widely, and the four in the hall let out a collective sigh.

"It's a boy," he said, twinkle in his eyes. "A healthy boy."

"Praise Mahal." Her husband let out in a whisper, a wide, proud smile breaking across him face. Fili immediately jumped up and exclaimed, "I have a brother!"

"And how is Dis?" Thorin asked, and Oin's grin only grew. "She's fine, all went well."

"Can we see them?" Fili's father asked, and Oin nodded. "Of course, but not too many at a time, Dis is very tired-"

"Rubbish!" came a voice from the room behind Oin, it was Dis's. "Bring them all in- I want to show off my son!"

Hana followed Thorin into the quarters, not sure if she should be there at all, but the dwarf prince affirmed it by taking her hand and guiding her in, with or without her consent.

The dwarf princess sat propped up in a messy bed, blankets stained and pillows covered with sweat, she held a little bundle in her arms as she pushed some tangled hair from her face. Nurses moved about cleaning the place up. Immediately, Fili's father rushed to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and fussing over her health, to which Dis just smiled and shushed him. Hana couldn't help but lean into Thorin as he put an arm over her shoulder, fingertips brushing against her forearm.

Dis met her eyes, and offered a soft smile in greeting. Not many words were exchanged in the room as the newborn was gingerly passed from dwarf to dwarf, as was tradition to let each family member be the first to welcome the little dwarfling into the world. When the babe came to her, Hana faltered, for she was not technically family. She met Dis's eyes in questioning, and the dwarf princess nodded.

"What will you name him?" she pondered aloud as Thorin gently placed the baby in her arms. He was small, almost a runt by dwarf standards, weighing little more than a bundle of clothes. He had a layer of thin black hair, a pointed nose and little clenched fists. She had never quite understood why babies were considered so lovely; she always thought they were strange looking.

But this one was different. He was almost surreal. She couldn't put her finger on it, why he suddenly seemed so precious to her, why she felt the need to protect him; she only knew that she must.

"Kili," Dis announced from where she lay wearily in her bed. Hana being the last in line; came to the dwarf woman's side and quietly transferred him to her arms, relishing in the tender moment that they had shared.

"Where's grandfather?" she questioned quietly to her father, and Thrain, looking pained, simply shook his head. Dis however, did not seem too put out, and immediately began to speak to Fili's father, all the while her eldest son trying to get a good look at his new brother.

Save Fili and his father, they were all shooed from the room not long after by Oin, who needed to examine the mother and child one last time. As they entered the hallway they all went their separate ways, Thrain heading to his study and Frerin to meet with some friends. Thorin simply slipped her hand into his as they ambled down the hall together, not really having any place to go at all.

The week that had passed since Thrain's acceptance of their courtship had been one of simple pleasure, including Thorin taking the advantage of being able to hold her hand, to keep an arm around her waist, and occasionally, when no one was looking, they shared a kiss.

"Kili is a beautiful child," she said as they made their way into the business of the city. "I'm so happy that the birth went well."

"As am I," Thorin said quietly, and Hana could not help but turn to him at the stiffness in his voice.

"What is it?"

He peered at his feet, eyebrows knitted. He then looked over to her. "I saw my grandfather today," he said.

"Really?" Hana asked, "Where was he? Why didn't he visit Dis?"

Thorin eyed the busy streets ahead, something cold and distant in his eyes. "He was in the treasury, gazing at all of his gold as if it where his very children." He sighed, running his left hand through his hair. "It's not a very large event, I know, but still. The look in his eyes, well," Thorin glanced at her, mouth tugged into a frown. "My grandfather is sick, Hana. He is very sick, and if that doesn't change, something will happen. Something terrible."

"It'll be alright," she assured squeezing his hand, although she was not sure entirely why she said it. Yes, she knew of the gold sickness, but she had never witnessed it firsthand. She would never understand what exactly he had seen in Thror's eyes, but by the way his voice tensed, it must have been bad.

"Yes," Thorin agreed after a moment, nodding slightly. "Everything will work out, in the end."

Presently, people began to stare. The streets were packed as dwarf's bustled to and fro, some just stopping to chat. But as they eyed Hana and Thorin, seeing that they were holding hands, a few began to whisper, some even began to point when they thought they couldn't see. Hana could only imagine the controversy that would erupt. A dwarf prince, courting an outcast, a bastard child. It was hardly average news.

"People are whispering about us…Thorin, are you sure about this?" she questioned, trying to pull her hand from his grasp, but he held it firm.

"They were bound to find out one way or another," he said, quietly, as people began to openly say things.

"Is that not Bofur's sister?"

"Where's her beard?"

"Is that _Thorin _with her?"

Shaking his head, he pulled her to come and stand in front of him, and Hana almost jumped from the suddenness of it.

"What are you doing?" she questioned, as the entire area seemed to go silent in anticipation. Thorin leaned in, small smile against his warm lips. "Making an announcement."

And then he kissed her.

Perhaps the crowd should have booed, perhaps they should have made disgusted arguments, but only silence greeted the action of their lips meeting. That is- until, someone began to clap.

The street seemed to erupt all at once, some sneering awful things, but most simply cheered. The prince had found his other half! A commoner, of all people! It was an image of hope, of goodwill. The line of Durin was not beyond loving a minor citizen personally, they were not separate from the people.

They were finally together, and that's all that mattered.

/

Rocks and dust coated ground for as far as the eye could see. Ruins of an ancient city, once a great power in middle earth, dotted the landscape. Behind it all was a cliff with a steep set of stairs leading to a crevice which went inward.

Perhaps Ethir should've been afraid, he was after all, about to meet a dragon. But he could only bring himself to relish in the excitement of it all. He would extract revenge, his dreams of a chaotic and imbalanced world would come true.

Thorin was a strong fighter, and Ethir was surprised that he had managed to actually kill him. Perhaps he should have found the dwarf prince and executed him personally after he moved on to his half-life. Perhaps he should have made a detour on the way to Smaug's lair.

But he didn't. Ethir awoke in the blood stained grass, wound healed as his second soul took over his body, the one he had been saving just for an occasion such as this. He had not expected to lose to Thorin, nor to use up his black magic so suddenly, but he still had a purpose. He still had a drive.

Ethir could already hear it- the blood curdling screams as women ran for their children, as men were eaten and burned alive. He could hear the crumbling of marble pillars and the sizzling of flesh. He could smell the smoke, could feel the fear. Oh yes, he was excited. He would relish in this, the act of revenge.

Chaos would rule.

He did not know what to expect when he entered the lair of Smaug. A dragon, obviously, but not one this big. Not one that was the size of a mountain itself; practically laying out from wall to wall in the mound of gold. This city had once prospered, it had been incredible, until Smaug caught wind of the gold harbored here and destroyed it all, in a simple flash. Hard work, alliances, bonds and relationships were no more. He had done it without a second thought, ruthlessly killing thousands and then nesting in the gold there. Ethir grinned as he saw the red scales, the claws larger than a cave troll, the smoke that rose from the beast's nostrils from the simple act of breathing. This would be delightful.

Now- how would he go about awaking the beast? Ethir had thought of several ways, and then just settled for the simplest, the one least likely to get him killed.

"Oh Smaug," he boomed, satisfied as his voice echoed and bounced off of the walls, and the dragon began to shift as it awoke. "I have come with glad tidings, and with excellent news!"

A gold eye opened, and the dragon stretched, it's magnificent scales glinting as gold fell from them. "Shall I just eat you instead?" he questioned, the unearthly deep voice seeming to make the entire mountain tremble at once. Ethir flinched, slightly. This beast was not one to be trifled with.

"My dear Dragon," Ethir said calmly, trying not to back away as Smaug drew near to him, his face twice the size of any man he had met. "This is a mighty treasure you have acquired."

The dragon laughed a sinister, menacing cackle. "If you intend to steal it, you weakling man, I'm afraid you will be dead before you take one step forward. "

"Oh, no." Ethir assured. "It is far too vast, far too impressive, just like yourself for me to steal."

"You draw near to me in words, but what of in actions?" Smaug questioned, moving closer and closer to Ethir, who tried not to back up in fear. "What is it you want, that is- before I kill you?"

"I-" Ethir faltered, it was something he rarely did. Standing up straighter and puffing out his chest, he spoke louder, with more confidence. "I have come to inform you, Smaug, of a treasure, far more impressive than this. One that would sustain a dragon like you for millions upon millions of years." He gulped, trying to ignore the way the dragon's forked tongue licked its teeth.

"And what is this treasure you speak of?" Smaug questioned, voice interested yet dangerous all at once.

"In the south, The Lonely Mountain," Ethir said, "The one they call Erebor. The dwarves there have acquired gold, a collection a thousand times larger than this. One that is yours for the taking."

Smaug seemed to grin, if that was even possible for a dragon. "Go on."

"King Thror has succumbed to the gold sickness. He is ill, his entire line is doomed. The civilization is strong economically, but in no ways politically. The king is practically a god to his people, some of whom have yet to even see him in person. Erebor is vulnerable, scattered," Ethir grinned, "and yours for the taking."

"Tell me again- why I should believe you?" Smaug questioned, hot breath searing at Ethir's skin. The man took a step back. "Why shouldn't I just eat you now?"

Ethir shrugged. "What have I to gain? Yes, I can take this gold while you go to take that of Thror's, but if you find the treasury of Erebor unsatisfactory, it'll only take you a day to come back here, to kill me and reclaim your gold." he took a breath, gathering his wits. "The question is not if what I'm saying is true, the question is, how much will you lose if you choose not to believe me?"

Smaug seemed to ponder this, keen eye's narrowing. Finally, he said in his booming voice, "Alright, mortal, I will seek out this treasure. But just to be safe, to make sure you do not succumb to the urge to steal the gold I already harbor,"

He had no time to run, nor time to shout. The fire was already upon him. It rushed around him as Smaug released it with a shout, the substance quickly melting skin and muscle, even bone, reducing the man to ash.

The dragon smirked at the remnants of what was Ethir. He then stretched his wings. It had been some hundred years since he had used them after all. Now where had that mortal claimed Erebor to be? The south? Smaug could not help the excitement that overcame him at the thought, a thousand times the gold he had now was unfathomable, yet he found himself seeking it regardless.

Taking one last glance back, the dragon emerged from the opening in the mountain and into the midday sun. And with a bellow, rose into the air, and began to fly south.

The gold would be his.

/

**SMAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUG**

**Hehe this is the part I've been waiting forever to write. The next chapter, well it's gonna break some hearts. Just a little fyi, you may want to prepare yourself emotionally. **

**So! Yes Smaug is coming to attack Erebor; however, I will publish an alternate ending, as well as an epilogue. You guys can just kind of put together what you want to happen from that! **

**Thanks for the reviews, I'm so sorry for the next chapter…so…soooo….sorry…gah….**

**Please forgive me everyone.**

**Read and Review!**

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

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	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty Four: Heartbeats

The wolf woman smiled as the ground began to shake. Ethir's life had faded, not long ago; she could feel his control over her ebb away. Whether the dragon had killed him, or another force, she didn't care. Her master was dead, she could be free. She was no longer under his control.

Ethir's plan had worked, and now would be the time to escape.

Guards abandoned their posts in the prison, trying desperately to escape before the rocks caved them in. She laughed at their pathetic efforts, she would kill them herself if she had the time.

Taking a breath, she stilled her heart, and willed her woman form to become that of a wolf. Her dress ripped and the fabric in withered pieces on the ground. She sank her jaws into the metal bars, and with one pull, removed them from their hinges.

She grinned through bloodied teeth as she padded up the stairs and broke into a run, heading towards the gates of the city, relishing in the sweet taste of freedom.

/

It was in the early morning when he came.

Dwarves all over Erebor were just eating breakfast, and getting ready to go off to a day's work. Bofur and Kenaii had gone long ago for an early shift, leaving Hana to watch after the younger ones. All was well, until everything started to shake.

It was as if and earth quake racked the entire house- dishware and furniture falling and crashing about. She could barely shout over the rumbling of the rock above. Bafur was trying to round up Bombur and Bambur, breakfast ignored as Hana desperately tried to shoo her brother's from the collapsing house, a crying Bumble in her arms.

It was only when they had made it into the street that she understood.

Dwarves ran about, bellowing and crying. She could see family's moving all at once, and some running alone, all in an attempt to make it out of the crumbling citizen neighborhood. Three houses had already fallen into the street, spreading debris and making it even more difficult to traverse the planes.

"Bafur, take Bambur." She ordered, and Bafur nodded, hoisting the younger dwarfling to ride on his back. "Bombur you _must_ stay with us, understand?"

The boys nodded, cheeks flushed and eyes wide in fear. Hana took off in a run, trying to ignore the cries of Bumble against her shoulder. She could hear the bellows of other dwarves, some her neighbors, some her friends. She wanted nothing more than to go back and help, but at the moment, she needed to focus on getting her family away from this. Whatever it was.

They traversed the uneven streets, choking on dust and smoke, and finally emerged into the main highway of Erebor. Dwarves of all genders, sizes, and classes ran for the main gate, trying desperately to escape whatever was decimating their city. Hana thought about Thorin- and a strange, cold fear grasped her. She swallowed it. For now, she needed to help her brothers.

"Run!" someone shouted. It was a guard, bleeding from the side as he ushered people towards the exit. "What is it?" Hana questioned, holding Bumble in one arm and holding Bombur's hand with the other. It was a challenge to stay steady on the shaking ground. "What's going on?"

"There's a dragon attacking our city," said the guard, and then with he pushed her harshly towards the gate. "Please, you must go!"

So there _was_ a dragon. Smaug had come. Ethir had not died, and he was seeking revenge. Hana swallowed her fear, and glanced back at her brother's.

Bafur was shaky, whether from exhaustion of fear she didn't know. Bambur was crying heavily into his brother's neck, and Bombur was as pale as a ghost.

"What about Bofur?" Bafur questioned, "What about Kenaii?"

She wanted to go back, to find her brother and Thorin and Kenaii, to assure their safety and bring them with her, but the walls and pillars of the city were crumbling. The streets were on fire and people sat crushed beneath debris, all this from Smaug. Hana shook her head, she had a responsibility.

"They'll find a way out," she assured, more to herself than her brothers. And then, with a tug on Bombur's arm, she broke out into a run towards the gate, holding Bumble tightly against her chest.

They ran unceasingly through the maze of streets, having to stop every now and again as a particularly violent shaking seemed to overtake the city as a whole. Hana ignored the protesting of muscles and just kept running, checking back every other moment to make sure that her brothers were indeed still with her.

After what seemed like an eternity, the dwarf family made it out of the gates, and joined the large mass of dwarves that were currently herding themselves over the bridge that led away from the city. Some were wounded, some were burned badly. Hana closed her eyes at this, only putting one foot in front of the other. That is, until she heard a familiar voice calling out to her.

"Hana!"

She turned at the sound of her name, and soon spotted Dis, surrounded by nurses, being slowly ushered away from the catastrophe that had become of the city. She had tears in her eyes when Hana approached.

"What is it?" she questioned, putting a hand on the princesses' shoulder in an attempt to calm her. She was breathing hysterically, shaking all over. "Dis, what happened?"

"You have to help me." She begged, pushing away one of the nurses whom had tried to pull her forward. "Kili's still back there."

Hana felt her heart stop. "Kili?"

Dis let out a heavy sob, "They said there was no time to get him. They said that he wasn't the eldest and that…. Hana please, please save my son."

"Where is he?" she questioned, transferring the crying Bumble to Dis's arms, who took him without question.

"In my quarters, where I gave birth yesterday" The dwarf woman said, and Hana nodded. Taking a breath, she looked back to her brothers, who stood staring at her quietly.

"I have to go," she said slowly, "Stay with Dis, alright?"

"No," Bafur said, shaking his head. Hana put a hand on his shoulder. "I will be back, watch after your brothers."

Ignoring the shouts of her brother's, Hana took off running back towards the gates, back towards the place that no one wanted to be.

Dwarves shoved passed her, desperately trying to escape the wrath of Smaug. Hana increased her pace, and when she entered the city, took a left into what would lead to the Royal quarters.

No one was in these halls, although the shaking was just as intense. She had to put a hand against the wall every few moments to steady herself. She was dizzy and tired, but kept going. Although she didn't know why the urge was so strong to save Dis's son, she did know that she had to protect Kili, to save him at all costs.

She passed Thorin's bedroom door, and contemplated going in to see if he was there, but in the end, Hana kept on running. The dwarf prince was probably already out of the city by now.

Minutes passed, and finally she reached the door to Dis's medical quarters. She could hear the wretched screaming of an infant coming from inside, and Hana breathed a sigh of relief. Kili was still alive!

After struggling with the handle, she finally was able to push open the door, and rushed inside.

A red newborn, with a small crop of brown hair lay in his cradle, crying in distress. Hana moved to quickly wrap him in a blanket, and held him tightly against her chest as she made her way out of the room, and back towards the gate.

Besides the shaking, all of Erebor had seemed to go quiet. She could see broken bodies poking out from beneath rubble, and she could smell the burning of flesh, as well as smoke. She pressed Kili closer to her, in an effort to protect the infant as she ran, perhaps a little slower this time. It was not good to shake one so young, so she was careful to not fall, to keep her pace and footing as steady as possible.

"Where's the dragon?" she couldn't help but wonder aloud. Looking back, she could see pillars smashed to the ground, and walls cracking, with pieces of brick and stone laying half-hazardously in every direction, but Smaug was nowhere to be seen.

Hana could only pray that Thorin, Bofur and Kenaii had made it out of the city safely. She picked up her pace as fast as she dared, doing her best to keep Kili from harm.

A strange, cracking sound, like that of lightning, erupted directly behind her. Hana turned to see a twenty foot high gold statue, that of Dain I, falling from its pedestal, and towards her. She began to run, but in vain. Gravity kicked in, and she felt the pressure of the statue hit her behind the right knee, and slam her to the ground. Hana let out a scream of pain, hearing bones break and tissue tear as the statue crushed her leg, barely missing the other. Somehow, through it all she had managed to land on her back, and Kili lay crying against her chest. She let out a small prayer of thanks that he had survived the ordeal.

Hana tried to sit up, but could only gasp in agony, feeling as if white hot metal was shooting through her. The ground began to tilt, and she was overcome with a sense of dread. The statue would roll either right or left. That meant that she would either be crushed and killed instantly, or that it would roll away and off of her trapped leg. Through heavy tears she begged her God that it would be the latter, pressing a kiss the Kili's head.

The marble creaked beneath her as it began to tilt, and to her utter relief, the statue rolled away, leaving her with a shattered and mangled leg and a crying infant, with at least another two hundred yards to cross.

She bit her lip until it bled, letting out curses as she rolled over on her stomach, trying to ignore how the bones protruding from her leg caught on the pieces of debris, releasing a searing torture through her. Blood soaked her dress quickly, and with Kili cradled in one arm, and another braced against the floor, she began to crawl.

/

Thorin knew where to find Thror. As guards and officials rushed about, crying out and searching for their king while the dragon swept through the city, killing every creature in its path, Thorin took off into a sprint towards the treasury, calling a few dwarves to follow him. The only problem was that the dragon was headed in that same direction.

He had been checking on the guards at the city doors when the fire drake had come. The first thing he did was warn the people, giving orders to every soldier to warn his friends, to find his family and to get out of the city as fast as possible.

Thrain had made it out, as well as Dis, Frerin, and Balin. He had made sure of it. He had left one task, and that was to retrieve the king.

A blast of air flew over him, and he could not help but falter in his tracks as the dragon flew overhead, breaking through the wall of the treasury with little effort. Taking a breath, Thorin continued running. He found Thror thrashing through the disheveled gold, trying desperately to find the Arkenstone despite the fact that a live dragon was breathing fire and rolling about less than fifty feet ahead. Swallowing his fear, Thorin grasped his grandfather and wrenched him back, soldiers soon coming to assist him. They ignored the bellows of the king as they ran through the city streets. They were fortunately blessed that the treasury so happened to be built near the gates of Erebor.

Thrain lie wounded against the wall of the gate, and Thorin wearily pulled him to his feet, letting his father lean against him as they limped through the gate, people screaming and running on either side.

When he made it outside, Thorin analyzed his surroundings, not once breaking from the run. Dwarf men, women, and children were fleeing in a scattered attempt to make it away from the city. Some had gotten so far as Dale, the city now being on fire itself. Over on a hill facing the west, he could see a line of people approaching. He recognized them as the elves of Greenwood. A sense of hope fluttered in him.

"Help us!" He bellowed, waving desperately as he passed Thrain on to a soldier to be carried away. For a moment, the Elf king, who sat upon his mighty elk, simply gazed at the mess. At the mass of dwarves running in utter fear and anguish, their city being destroyed in the progress. Thorin thought that they would soon descend, that Thranduil would take his army and help slay the beast, or at least help evacuate the people.

But the elf turned, and motioned for his army to retreat, and Thorin felt a single, driven and raging emotion rise within him. Anger. White hot, seething, uncontainable anger.

His attention as taken from the fleeing elves when out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dis, carrying a baby and running towards him. But wait a minute- that wasn't right. Kili was a newborn; and small for his age. The babe in his sister's arms was at least twice his size, perhaps a year old even. Behind her was a familiar set of dwarflings, he recognized them as Hana's brothers.

_Mahal no._

"Where is Hana?" he questioned as his sister approached him, shaking in fear and rocking the crying Bumble in her arms out of habit. She looked up at him, and with tears in her blue eyes said, "Forgive me Thorin."

He put a hand on either of her shoulder's trying to ignore the sudden sickness that was swelling with in him. "What happened to Hana?"

"She went to get Kili," his sister said between broken sobs. "I sent her to find Kili in the medical ward. She should be near my quarters."

Thorin turned, immediately breaking into a sprint, pushing roughly through the crowd of dwarves; he stopped to get the attention of one of the soldiers who was ushering the people out. "Do not shut the gate until I return," he ordered, and when the soldier nodded, Thorin took a deep breath, and entered the city.

Everything had been a blur until that moment. He remembered the screech of metal against scales as Smaug entered the city, dispatching the army that Thorin had led against him with ease, killing and crushing hundreds at once. He remembered retrieving his family, and he remembered leaving the city. It was only now, however, that he felt real fear.

He ran towards the royal quarters, in the direction that Hana would've been most likely to go. The ground cracked in several places beneath him, dust and smoke sitting in his lungs and crumbled houses flung out in the streets. He ran unceasingly, letting the pure adrenaline take over. He needed to find her, if it was the last thing he'd do, he'd find her.

The streets were mostly empty, although he could see a few bodies, a few almost-dead dwarves every few yards. He looked as long as he could stomach before turning his eyes back to the direction he was going. Fire singed at his clothes and hair, but he pushed on.

"Thorin!"

He stopped in his tracks, whirling around to see Hana, lying on the ground not fifty yards away. He ran to her, and was relieved to see that she was alive, crawling on her elbows through the rubble, a sobbing Kili awkwardly balanced in one arm. He couldn't help the waves of nausea that passed through him, however, when he saw her leg.

To say that it was broken was an understatement. Her dress had been torn right above the knee, leaving the appendage visible to those who dared to look. Shards of rock and bone protruded through the bloodied pulp, it was completely crushed, almost flat, the skin was either rubbed off or a sickening purplish color. He looked away, and moved down to examine her.

Her face was bruised and her eyes were watering, dirt and ash smeared her skin, and her lip quivered in pain. Kili was quite alive, as red as an apple and crying loudly. Thorin waited for another great shaking of the earth to pass before he scooped her into his arms, being sure that Kili was secure against her, he began to make his was to the gates of the city as fast as he could with his malnourished muscles.

"Thorin," she said, and he glanced at her as he attempted to keep his balance through his traversing of the utterly destroyed streets of Erebor. There were tears in her eyes. "Take Kili," she begged, lifting the infant from her chest as if to hand it to him, despite the fact that he was currently holding her. "Take him and get out of here."

"You ridiculous woman." He muttered, continuing his trek. Although as he tripped over debris, his arms growing weary and his breath running short, Thorin could not help the dread arising in him. Hana was badly injured. Would the gates close with them still inside? Would it be best to leave her and make a break for it?

He shook his head stubbornly at the thought. No, not in a million years. Not ever.

And so he picked up the pace.

After what seemed like ages, he made it out into the open, breathing heavily and feeling shaky. Hana had her head buried in his shoulder, no doubt in pain. He glanced up at the hill were the Greenwood elves had been, only to see that there was not an elf in sight.

Soldier came to take Kili from them, and then another came to take Hana.

"No," she said quietly, and then as he began to transfer her into the other's arms, she clung to his neck, trying desperately to stay with Thorin. "No!" she screamed again, tears running down her eyes. Thorin swallowed. She was in shock.

"Hana, it'll be alright," he assured, but she shook her head and clung to him. He had no choice but to pry her arms from him, and to forcefully pass her on to the soldier, who struggled to keep the screaming and kicking dwarf woman in his arms as he began to run from Erebor, making his way to the mass of dwarves that had gathered about a mile from the city.

Thorin let out a heavy breath, resting a hand on each knee. Every single part of him seemed to shake. He was still weak from his ordeal of nearly starving to death. He was not ready to fight a dragon, let alone carry Hana and Kili through the entire city. With a heavy heart, he tried to ignore her shouts for him as he turned, and the soldiers near the gates looked at him questioningly.

"When was the last time someone emerged?" Thorin questioned, placing a hand on a nearby rock in an effort to steady himself as the earth began to quake again.

"You've been the only one in the last hour." He answered, and the dwarf prince nodded. Smaug could emerge any second, if the desire to feast on dwarf arose within him, they wouldn't stand a chance. Praying to Mahal for forgiveness, he nodded at the soldiers, "Close the gates."

/

Bofur swallowed the fear surging within him as he kept one arm around his wife, eyes scanning the dwarves as they made their way across the bridge and into the field, running for their lives.

The dwarves of Erebor had gathered here, Thrain and Thror waiting patiently for the arrival of Thorin, whom they were sure wasn't far behind. Kenaii was sobbing into his shoulder, and he could only lean into her to offer what feeble comfort he could.

Where were his brothers?

Suddenly, amongst the chaos, he spotted a little, round dwarf, with a mass of orange hair. At his side was Bafur and Bambur. He felt a surge of relief sweep through him as he ran towards them, Kenaii not far behind.

"You're safe!" he exclaimed, immediately pulling his brother's into an embrace, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. A dwarf woman, one whom he'd never seen, cleared her throat next to him, and with little explanation held out Bumble. The baby was tired, and was in a mass of tears and hiccups, but very much safe and alive. He took him into his arms, nodding in thanks. Finally, he turned to his brothers, whom all seemed to be in the same state as the youngest.

"Where's Hana?"

/

Frerin held back his tears, just this once.

He cried when he was in distress, something that few dwarves did. Frerin did not restrain his emotions, which was why some of his family thought him reckless, thought him weak. He had cried upon finding Thorin near death, he had cried when his mother died, he had cried when his first love left him, and he had cried when Fili was born healthy, despite the odds.

But now, he couldn't bring himself to do it. As he watched his people, once mighty and now brought low, letting out screams; all sorts of screams. Some of exhaustion and some of relief, some of agony and some of despair. Tears were shed everywhere as women ran to their husbands and children, as dwarves fussed over injuries and perhaps the worst, dwarves not able to find whom they were searching for. Whether that be a loved one, a child, or a friend. He couldn't imagine the fear, the sadness that these dwarves held in their hearts. They had lost everything, and in a sense, he had as well. But he at least had his family. Thror, Thrain, Thorin, Dis, Fili and Kili were all safe and quite alive, which was much more than he could say for these folk. The ache in his chest increased- no, he could not cry. He did not deserve to feel despair when he had been blessed with so much. Yes, his home was gone, yes, they may never return, and yes, he'd be mentally and physically scarred for years to come, but he had not met the same fate as most of his people.

_No,_ Frerin thought as the medic bandaged his burned arm. _I am lucky._

_/_

"What will we do?" Thrain questioned. He, Thror, Thorin, Dis's husband, Balin, and any official who had survived the aftermath with Smaug sat in the tent. How they had managed to salvage one? He didn't know.

"There are still dwarves in the city." Thorin said, biting his lip. "I ordered the guards to shut the gates to keep the dragon in, but perhaps we should return, see whom we can get out-"

"No." said a gruff voice; one that he soon realized was Balin's. The old dwarf had a deep cut on his forehead, as well as bruises in various places. "That dragon must _not_ escape. He's more powerful than we can ever hope to be. For now, we must move west, we must find a place for the remaining dwarves to settle. Only then, can we return to Erebor and face Smaug." They all looked to Thror for affirmation, and the king simply nodded. He hadn't spoken a word since they'd escaped the city; he seemed to be numb to the world itself. Thrain only prayed that his father was not going mad.

"Many of our people have died today." said the would-be-king, feeling his heart grow heavy. "I would not risk any more death. It is an unfortunate thing that there may yet be dwarves trapped in the city, but it is not something we can help, unless we want to risk the lives of the remainder of our people."

His son's face fell, and Thrain felt the need to reach out and embrace him, to comfort him in whatever way he could. But he refrained, this was not the time.

"Excuse me," Thorin whispered, getting up and exiting the tent. Balin soon stood and followed him, excusing himself in an equally polite manner.

/

"Oh Thorin," Balin muttered, pulling the dwarf prince into a hug the moment they were out of earshot of the tent. The ordeal had been a strenuous one, watching so many people die and hurt and burn, Balin wanted to erase the entire thing from his memory entirely. He wanted to curl up into a ball and die, as simple as that.

The dwarf prince hugged him back fiercely, and the two friends took comfort in one another.

People were camped out across the plains. They had managed to trek a few miles before night had fallen, and Thrain had ordered the people to rest. Balin had already sent out a hawk to Rohan, asking for yet another favor. Asking if they could only send some soldiers and food to get them along, if they would only let the dwarves take refuge in their city and gather provisions before heading towards the Blue Mountains, where they planned to settle. It was a weak, pathetic plea, one that made him uncomfortable, but Balin swallowed his pride. They needed to eat somehow.

"Hana is injured." Thorin said, pulling back. "The statue of Dain fell on her, it crushed her leg completely." He shook his head. "Oin took her away, she has lost so much blood Balin… so much."

The dwarf put a hand on his friends shoulder, feeling his own heart grow heavy. Thorin and Hana had gone through so much- they had fought and conquered and starved; they'd been injured and been tortured and nearly died for one another. It'd been a year since that fateful journey to Rohan, and since then the two dwarves had become each other's. They'd formed a bond like nothing he'd known. Would that really diminish now? Could it? No- he wouldn't believe it.

"The healers are on the southern side of camp." He said, "Go to her, Thorin."

The prince nodded in thanks, gripping Balin's forearm brotherly before taking off to the south. Not having enough energy to run yet not able to contain his urgency to walk, he ambled in an awkward jog, and Balin watched him go.

/

The healer's area made Thorin's head swim. Blood and bones and dismembered dwarves seemed to be wherever he looked. Thorin scanned the crowd of patients, some crying out and sobbing, some sitting quietly as they awaited their fate, he searched for Oin. He soon spotted the old dwarf seated near a fire, several patients sat in the grass waiting to be taken care of as Oin worked tirelessly. Behind them was Hana, propped up against the tree, seemingly asleep. He approached.

The first thing he saw was the bottle of alcohol. Where had they even retrieved such a thing? Who had time to grab alcohol when running from a dragon- he didn't know. It was completely empty, and Hana's eyes remained shut as her body swayed slightly. Thorin felt a sickness settle in his gut as a realization began to set in.

"Hana?" he whispered; coming to sit by her and trying his best to avoid looking at her leg, which was now bandaged to stall the heavy bleeding. A strange metal contraption was set tightly around the thigh, a few inches above where the mangling and crushing of the appendage started. The device was screwed tightly, binding the skin and causing the skin above it to turn purple.

"Oin's cutting of the circulation, he told me to drink all of this ale" she slurred, gesturing towards the empty bottle at her side. Her eyes were foggy, her words uneven. "Thorin," she whimpered, "What's he going to do to me?"

Thorin said nothing, he only took her hand gently into his, trying his best to warm her, to comfort her as she did for him while he was starving in the back of a wagon. Would she die? Oin planned amputation, which was obvious enough. The damage done to her leg was far too much to overcome. It would become infected if they kept it, and she would surely die.

At least this way, she had a chance.

"I'm glad that you're alright," She said quietly, and he kissed her head as she leaned unsteadily against him, utterly drunk. Hana would be a cripple before the night was out. She'd need a crutch, or a wooden leg, probably both. She'd never again be able to sell toys in Dale, to chase after her little brothers or to practice her swordsmanship with him. Her life would be altered drastically; she'd never be the same.

"I'm sorry, Hana." He said, his voice broken. "I'm so, so sorry."

He'd lost his home, his people, and any hope he had of leading a future as king. He'd lost everything, they all had.

But he hadn't lost her.

"Bring her over, Thorin." He heard Oin call, and shakily, he hoisted her up. Hana sighed in his arms; intoxicated by the insane amount of ale she'd been given. Oin's eyes were empty when he approached, gently setting Hana down on the blood stained blanket the doctor had set out.

He watched as Oin moved a large, metal plate with a single handle deeper into the coals of the fire, no doubt to be used for cauterizing the wound that would follow amputation. He then watched as the dwarf got out a roll of bandages, now quite depleted from the amount of patients he had already treated. Hana seemed to be the last in line, although a few waited behind, a few who were beyond repair, who would need several amputations.

"Have her bite down on this," Oin said, handing Thorin a thick slab of wood. "It'll give her something to focus on, and keep her from biting her tongue."

The prince nodded, gingerly coaxing the half conscious Hana to open her mouth, and he slid the piece of wood between her two sets of teeth.

"Now for the hard part," Oin said; his face weary. He'd done this before, of course, but that didn't mean that it got easier as time passed. Thorin watched, dread in his gut as Oin grabbed a saw, and using a cloth, wiped away the blood that had previously stained it. It was a crude procedure, but it was all they could do. Oin glanced at Thorin, moving to the side to where he could better view her leg. "You're going to need to hold her down."

Thorin nodded, swallowing his nausea as he put a hand on each of her biceps, leaning his weight on them. Hana blink blearily up at him, blue eyes hazed over and a small smile on her face. Thorin felt a tear fall from his eye. Why was the world so cruel?

Oin didn't say when he'd start cutting; and the next thing Thorin new, Hana was screaming.

He held her down with every last ounce of strength he had, closing his eyes so that he didn't have to watch the pain etched in her features as she let out a bellow of agony. He heard her sob, her arms trying desperately to free themselves from his grasp. He held his breath, praying for her, for Oin, for everyone. He prayed that this would be over.

He could hear the clanking of metal and looked up to see Oin removing the red hot plate from the coals. Hana's leg had been removed and set aside, and he had to lean to the away so that he vomited onto the grass instead of her. Oin waited for him to gather his wits, Hana crying quietly the entire time.

"Hold her down," he commanded again, and Thorin did as he was told, trying to ignore the sizzling and smell of burning flesh that came when Oin pressed the metal plate against the wound. Hana didn't struggle this time, she only cried, begging for him to make the pain go away. After what felt like hours, Oin's voice rang out, "She's alright now."

Her stump of a leg ended a hands width above the knee, and had been cauterized and bandaged. He helped her sit up, and watched in distress as her dark blue eyes landed on the remainder of her leg.

Through her tears that fell steadily, she took the wood from her mouth, and let out an, "Oh…"

"Take her back to her family," Oin said, "Bring her back to me in the morning so that I can check on the wound."

Thorin nodded, gathering her into his arms and standing, trying to ignore the fact that she was significantly lighter. "Thank you," he said, nodding to Oin, and he meant it.

They didn't say a word as Thorin began to walk, carrying her in his arms as he set of to find Bofur and his brothers. After a half hour of searching, he finally spotted them in a clearing, all huddled around a little fire for warmth. Her eldest brother perked up when he saw them, but soon turned pale when he realized what had become of Hana.

The boys all turned to see what their brother was looking at. And to Thorin's surprise, they didn't say a word- only rearranged themselves so that there was room for him to sit by the fire. The prince let out the smallest of smiles as he settled in the grass, Hana leaned against his chest dozing.

"It's a shame." Bofur said quietly, looking at the remainder of his sister's leg.

The redhead next to him let out a shaky sigh, holding the youngest babe in her arms, and Thorin recognized her as his wife. Had they not been married just yesterday? What a cruel fate this world dealt.

"I assume you're all unharmed?" Thorin questioned, making eye contact with each of the boys, and they nodded. The ginger one however, shook his head furiously. "I'm hungry!" he griped.

"There is not much we can do at the moment save hunt and gather." Thorin said quietly, looking at Bofur. "We'll head for Rohan, and bargain with the wood elves on the way- if possible. Until then, we're all going to be a little hungry."

"I like it out here," said one of the younger ones, Bafur. "It's like I'm on an adventure! I only need a sword."

"Here," said Bambur, throwing him a stick and then picking one up for himself. "Fight me!"

The boys seemed to scamper away, all dispersing to find sticks and use them as play swords, laughing and joking the entire time. Thorin watched as Kenaii and Bofur made themselves comfortable in the grass, going into their own quiet conversation, and soon falling asleep. Thorin simply held Hana in his arms, staring off into the coals of the fire as he heard the boys playing in the background.

_The End_

**/**

**Now don't freak out just yet! You've still got an alternate ending on the way, as well as an epilogue! I want to say sorry if you got a little freaked out with my last author's note, I hope you aren't too depressed from all of this…**

**Countless hours of outlining, character drawing, typing and retyping has brought me to the end of this story. Being my first fanfic, I find myself a little nostalgic. I started this back in July, typing on my tablet while on lunch break. And now, three months and over 115,000 words later, I'm finished. In the words of Frodo: "It's over… It's done."**

**It's bittersweet yall's, really, it is. **

**I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who followed, favorite and reviewed. A special round of applause goes to Michi Shojo, BrooklyntheElf, The EarthSong, and Geekatheart21 for all of the awesome reviews. I swear, you guys were the only reason I kept writing this sometimes. Thank you so much for the encouragement! YOU'RE UTTERLY AMAZING!**

**So… anything you want to see in the epilogue or alternate ending? Just let me know and I'll be sure to add it in. They're going to just sort of be a free-for-all of me putting in anything I want, and anything you want. **

**I hope that this story has brought you as much joy and entertainment as it has brought me. I look forward to posting the epilogue and alternate ending in the next week or so! I love you all!**

**Oh yes, and if it is desired, I don't know if I'd be opposed to writing a sequel. If not, I'm cool with that too, just an fyi!**

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

Contribute a better translation


	35. Epilogue I

Epilogue, Part I

When Hana awoke, she didn't know what to expect.

Of course, she expected to be in pain. She had a faint and distant memory, edging between a headache and a dream, of what occurred, and the fact that she had had her leg sawed off was not one she'd be soon to forget. No, the pain was no surprise, nor waking up and having a thick, dull ache that rested from the waist down, not to mention the bruises and cuts. She expected she'd have to see Oin, that someone would need to carry her or that she'd need to build herself a crutch. She'd come to terms with all of those things before she even opened her eyes, knowing that she'd readily go back and save Kili again if the chance were presented to her.

Her eyes opened slowly, her breath coming out in long pants. The skyline was dark, and she was distinctly aware that she had her head propped up on something- no- someone. At first she was stiff and frightened, but then she felt the familiar inhale and exhale of breath as his chest moved beneath her, and her fears stilled.

She didn't bother to sit up, only to crane her head to get a good look at her surroundings. Bofur, Kenaii, Bafur, Bambur, Bombur, and Bumble were all huddled together for warmth. A black indentation in the ground stood where a fire once was. She could hear crickets chirping and smell the fresh dew on the grass beneath her. She stretched her legs, hoping against hope that perhaps it had all been a dream; that she'd stretch and feel both feet brush through the wet grass, instead of just one. But she was wrong, and a jagged pain shot through her half-leg the moment she strained the muscles. Hana let out a quiet gasp, trying not to wake anyone.

A hand came up to rest on her bicep, and she looked up to see Thorin, peering down his nose at her.

"Are you alright?" he asked immediately, and Hana shook her head slowly.

He said nothing, only squeezed her shoulder. Hana couldn't help the warmth that flooded her from that area, and things seemed to calm.

"When are we going back to Erebor?" she whispered, being content in the fact that he had draped his coat over her before going to bed. It was still considerably cold outside.

"It may be some time yet," he said softly, biting his lip.

She sighed, feeling sick to her stomach. She was not afraid of the pain or heartache that ensued as much as the change. Change in where she lived, what she did, who she was, it was all inevitable now.

"You saved me," she said into his chest. "I would've died in that city if not for you."

"Rest, Hana." He urged, pulling he coat tighter around her. "All will be well."

"No it won't," she said numbly. "I won't be able to walk again, ever. Nor run, nor fight, nor help. What must you think of me? Surely you understand that I won't force you to stay with me, I'm not in any way fit for you, Thorin."

"You are paranoid and tired," the prince assured, and after a considerably long pause said: "And I'm sure that you would look beautiful in a wedding dress, with or without that leg."

"You're an imbecile." She mumbled, feeling her face turn red, and he laughed at this.

/

That morning, when all of the remaining dwarves of Erebor were arising from their makeshift beds and getting ready to move on, Thorin stayed with Hana. Perhaps his father needed him, perhaps he didn't. The prince would find time later.

Not a word was spoken when they awoke; Thorin simply looked at her, and then moved to lift her up as he stood. He carried her like that for most of the day, when they went to speak to Oin, when they traversed the planes into the greenwood and when they stopped yet again for another night's rest. He grew tired, and he grew weak, but he refused to say it. There was no other way for Hana to keep up, save she were carried. The dwarves managed to gather a meager supply of food by the end of the day, each one fending for themselves. It was a blessing that they managed to find a trading post, and readily gave over jewelry and furs for any and all of the supplies there. Still, they all went to sleep with growling stomachs.

It was something they'd have to grow used to, fending for themselves in the wild, fighting off starvation and wild beasts and everything in-between. They'd have to get used to the fact that they couldn't wake up in a warm bed, nor braid their beards in the morning. Being miserable became a way of life. They would just need to cope.

He sat out in the grass that night, with Hana half laid out in his lap and dirt covering every inch of his body. He found himself clenching his fists at what that dragon had taken from them, from him and from her. But then he took that despair and turned it elsewhere, to save his people, to get them all to the Blue Mountains in one piece. It was a heavy burden, but if he didn't have one, then he'd be lost.

_Well,_ he thought, smiling as Hana let out a yawn against his neck, _not as lost as I could be._

_/_

Thorin returned to the tent late one night, when the summer sky shimmered and the air was cool yet humid. His face was red in range, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching as he threw back the door flap, letting out half-growl breaths.

"It didn't go well, did it?" Hana asked from where she was nested in the blankets. The dwarves had scheduled a negotiation meeting with Thranduil and the rest of the wood elves, and Hana's assumption was quite correct.

"He told us that we were not his _responsibility."_ The prince seethed. "That he had no reason to help us."

Hana's face fell, "Why is this?"

Thorin let out a heavy sigh, pulling off his boots and removing his sword and sheath from around his waist. "Last year, before our trading expedition, the elf king came to us requesting Mithril. He would not give us the price we demanded, and so we refused to trade. He holds that grudge today."

"There are starving children!" she exclaimed, blue eyes dark with anger. "I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday; goodness knows how long it's been for you!"

He cocked an eyebrow, and she sighed, continuing. "Thorin, I know that you're giving me a portion of your rations. I'm not as blunt as you perceive. Why do you do this? It will do neither of us good if you die of malnourishment."

He gingerly made his way to his set of furs next to her, not bothering to pull a blanket over himself due to the already abundant summer heat. "I want to feel like I'm helping," he said softly, "I cannot personally help the children or the old or sick. I cannot distribute my rations to every dwarf refugee. I just figured that if I can save one person, it'll be enough."

"You are _not_ a martyr, Thorin." Hana grumbled, laying her head against his shoulder. "And I swear to Mahal, if you give me another bite of your food, I'll shove it down your throat. The sight of you growing thin brings me back to a bad time."

"I as well," Thorin said wistfully. "Balin says that Rohan has sent word, the master of the Rohirim will be arriving with provisions within the coming week."

Hana was quiet for a minute, just letting them listen to the sounds of their own breathing as she drew little circles against his elbow. Finally, she said, "And what will happen Thorin, after we reach the Blue Mountains? What will we do?"

"Hmm," he started, resting his chin against her forehead, "If all goes well, I would hope that I could buy us a little house, or maybe build us one. I would hope that we would live a good long amount of years, and that eventually, perhaps our children, or our grandchildren can retake Erebor, and we can live our final years in peace."

"It sounds wonderful." She said quietly, and then taking a moment to think, she continued. "Does that imply that we will be married?"

Thorin cocked an eyebrow. "I thought I had made my intentions obvious by now?" and then his eyes grew wide in anxiousness, "Is that not what you want?"

She grinned into the fabric of his shirt. "No- Thorin, son of Thrain. That is exactly what I want."

/

They were married in quiet, under an elm tree and surrounded by a select few family members. Thrain, Frerin, Dis, Fili, Kili, Kenaii, Balin, Dwalin, Bofur and his brothers were the only guests in attendance. There was no food, nor celebration nor dance. They did not have access to forges or an excessive amount of resources, so Hana could not help but feel inadequate with the gift she had given Thorin. It was a crudely molded ring, with the simple imitation of his family crest carved into it. He accepted it with a smile and a kiss, and in turn presented her with an earring, equally simple and of poor nature. She wore it proudly from that day forward on the upper corner of her left ear, and he did the same with the middle finger on his left hand.

She didn't have a wedding dress, despite how often she had fantasized of such a thing. She had to lean on him the entire time that Balin spoke, feeling utterly ashamed that she was brought to such a weak state. Yet at the same time she couldn't bring herself to regret a single moment of the ceremony, only cherish every breath that was taken in that little clearing.

"It's funny," she said later to him, when they sat stretched out on the grass counting the stars. "This time last year, I thought you to be the cockiest bastard in middle earth. I still think that sometimes."

He laughed, intertwining their fingers with practiced familiarity. Her leg had healed by now, and there was no longer a need for bandages. Only a scarred stump remained were the appendage had previously been. "Cocky bastard or not, you still agreed to marry me."

She smiled, "I suppose this means I'll be getting a tattoo with your family crest?"

"Not until we reach the Blue Mountains," he said, voice growing considerably somber considerably quickly, making Hana turn to him, "And that could easily take until next winter."

"Thorin," she said quietly, squeezing his hand. "As much as the people depend on you, you _must_ understand that you cannot give them everything. You aren't perfect."

"How kind," he said sarcastically, shooting her a look to portray his jest.

Hana rolled her eyes. "But really Thorin, do not push yourself beyond what you can do. I can see it, you're tired. You need to rest. You need to eat a good meal and to spend a day smoking."

"If only I could," he said quietly, but then shook his head. "It's our wedding night; are there not better things to speak of?"

She shot him a grin, "Must we speak at all?"

Thorin raised an eyebrow knowingly, "No, I see no reason to."

/

The dwarves of Erebor were a proud race, one that did not take easily to offence.

And so when they spit at him, it nearly pushed her over the edge.

Of course, Hana had gotten used to the confused, pitiful, and disapproving stares from the villages that they passed through. The men all had a reason to turn their noses up, and a reason to raise an eyebrow. She wasn't fond of attention, nor was the rest of the crew. They just wanted to get to the city, trade, find work, settle some dwarves, and move on.

This city however, was one that didn't take kindly to the dwarves. Erebor had once been a trading partner with it, but had cut the ties the moment their mines ran dry, leaving the people to starve and fend for themselves. Now, almost fifty years later, they had gotten back on their feet, finding economy in agriculture of the fertile land nearby. But they had never forgiven the dwarves, and tensions between the peoples were still obvious.

It had been four months since the attack of Smaug, since then, the dwarves had moved westward to the blue mountains, taking work when possible and occasionally helping a few stray dwarves settle, although most stayed with the population of Erebor. In about a month time, they'd reach the blue mountains, and everyone was on their toes in anticipation to finally find a place to rest, a place to call home after all of this time. But first, they needed to find food, and food would be in this city.

Thorin's hand clenched into a fist as they made their way through the streets, avoiding eye contact from the citizens. Hana was at his side, able to keep up at a slow pace, with a makeshift crutch on her legless side. She had grown used to living without the appendage, and had long gotten over the sickness and melancholy that came with knowing that you could no longer walk. When they got to the blue mountains, they'd make her a metal contraption to act as a leg, but until then, she'd need to make due.

"Nasty Durin-folk," an old man muttered from their left, spitting at Thorin's feet. The prince didn't even flinch, only kept his gaze fixed on the crowd ahead, teeth clamped down.

"I can go hit him, if you want." Hana suggested, "I don't have an appearance to keep up, unlike yourself."

Thorin smiled and shook his head, placing a tentative hand on her back. "He's not worth our time." He said, pushing her forward.

And so they moved on, Hana not quite sure of whether he was serious, but following his words either way.

"We'll be alright," he assured, and Hana nodded, struggling onward.

"We will."

/

**Awwww fluff! I feel weird writing fluff for these two… I don't think they get it often enough, haha. **

**So as you may have seen in the title, I'm doing multiple epilogues. Most of them are going to be a sort of one shot of an event going on in Thorin and Hana's lives, since there's a good hundred years between Smaug's attack on Erebor and the end of their story, (SPOILER ALERT: Their story ends after Battle of Five Armies). **

**I can't see more than five-ish epilogues, it's mostly going to be like a set of drabbles. The alternate ending will go up after I finish up the epilogues, and I can promise it will not destroy your feelings. The last epilogue, however, might make you hate me…**

**Seriously though, if there's anything you want to see happen, let me know, because I'm kind of short on plot for the upcoming epilogues, and I'd love to write more for these two! Haha. **

**Thanks yall for reading, lemme know what you think.**

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

Contribute a better translation


	36. Epilogue II

Epilogue II

Thorin stared down at his hand, scarred and dirty as it was, he couldn't help the sick churning feeling in his stomach.

This was wrong.

He felt a hand clap onto his shoulder, and turned to see Frerin, fully dressed in armor and a weak grin on his face. "Have faith brother," he said, "By nightfall Moria will be ours."

The scene was completely silent, all of the dwarves stood in their ranks waiting for the gates to open, for the inevitable battle to begin. Thror and Thrain had decided to try to reclaim the dwarf city from the orcs not two weeks ago, and he still remembered the worry in Hana's eyes as he told her the news. He had assured her that they would win, that the battle was staggered in their favor and that he'd return to her, and he did what he could to believe in his own words.

But something just felt off about the entire ordeal.

He glanced back at the medic tents, not half a mile away, near the surrounding foliage. Hana was in there somewhere, after being taught as a healer she was determined to be as close to the battle as she could, and while he was still uneasy about it, he was at least glad that she was not in the very depths of the skirmish itself.

His thoughts were interrupted as the doors to his people's city opened, and out began to pour a steady stream of orcs, coming down the hill towards the army of dwarves. Taking a breath, he gripped his sword and ran forward, leaving things up to a strong blade and fate.

/

Hana rushed back and forth, monitoring that status of the other medics and organizing where to put those waiting to be healed. The wounded never ceased to come, it seemed, and she thanked Mahal that Bofur had built her the artificial leg, for while it was nowhere near as functional as a natural limb, it still allowed her to walk from place to place at a relatively normal speed, even if her gait was slow and awkward. She tried to hold back the oncoming wave of emotions as she saw each new dwarf being carried in, each wound heftier than the last. She had a job to do, and there was nothing that would keep her from doing it.

"Hana!" a weak voice called for her attention, and she turned to see one of the younger trainees, kneeling over one of the dwarves that was just carried in. "Hana hurry!"

The dwarf girl made her way there as quickly as she could, and the sight that awaited her was something that she'd never be able to etch from her memory.

Her cousin Bifur was crumbled in the grass, blood seemingly everywhere, a small throwing axe lodged in his skull.

"He's alive," said the trainee. "I-I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't think we could remove it without causing more damage, and I didn't want to put pressure on it either."

Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, felt her voice catch in her throat "I…" she whimpered, "I don't know what to do."

"I'll go get Oin," the young boy suggested, and Hana nodded, pushing him on his way.

"Bifur," she said quietly, "Stay with me, we're going to get Oin. We'll get Oin and everything will be well. Bofur will come back and we'll have a huge meal, just the family. It'll be lovely."

She bit her lip, shaking her head. This was bad. It was a miracle that he was alive as it was, but her cousin would not last the night, surely. She could only imagine what injuries Bofur might have sustained, or Dwalin and Balin for that matter.

She skittered around the thought of Thorin as delicately as she could. Her husband would not die, he simply wouldn't. He'd return to her, or she'd come find him, but he would not leave her. He had promised her that much.

"I'm here," said Oin, kneeling down to examine Bifur, he pulled out an already bloodied cloth and began to clean the wound. "There's nothing I can do," he said softly, glancing up at her. "All we can do is make him comfortable for now."

She closed her fist, and dug her nails into the skin on her palm. She wouldn't cry. Bifur wouldn't have wanted it. She watched as some medics hoisted him up on a stretcher, and laid him out in the field where the other terminally wounded patients rested, being kept company by several dwarves as they did what they could, which was very little. What scared her was how large that field was beginning to be.

"Come," said Oin, hoisting her to her feet. "There will be a time to mourn, but it is not yet, others still need your help."

Hana nodded weakly, and moved on to the next patient, a dwarf with a sword protruding from his gut. She quietly set to work at keeping pressure on the wound, and at cleaning it the best she could while applying whatever salves that stood a chance at helping. That one eventually died.

It was near noon when they brought in Frerin.

The Thorin look alike had a dagger twisted into his gut, and was writhing in pain as the other medics attempted to calm him. Hana rushed to him when she first caught sight of the dwarf.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to keep him talking as his breath became shadow, blood seeping out from his lips and nose, trickling down into his beard and staining his teeth.

"Hana," he spluttered, letting out a groan. Ignoring the way his voice sounded so much like Thorin's, Hana moved to press against the wound which was bleeding profusely. By this time she was elbow deep in dwarf blood from the events of that day, but Frerin's wound was severe, and it made her heart hurt.

"Hana," he said again, reaching for her forearm, "Hana how bad is it?"

"Not now," she muttered, letting another medic take over and reaching for ointment from her pack, but Frerin's hand stopped her.

"Hana please," he whispered, coughing up blood. "Am I going to die?"

Her eyes glazed over with tears as she met his deep blue ones, but she didn't have the heart to say anything. He seemed to understand, and nodded.

His hand on her arm began to shake, and she heard a medic cry out from beside her as more and more blood came from the wound. Hana reached in her pack, but stopped when Frerin spoke up. "Don't waste it on me." He said, "Not if I'm doomed. You might as well send them away," his voice grew softer. "It's no use now, is it?"

"It is!" she protested, "Thorin would never forgive me if I let you go, I would never forgive me!"

"Tell Thorin I love him, will you?" Frerin asked, "Would you tell him that for me? And Dis and Fili and Kili, and my father and…"

"You're going to be fine," she assured, trying to ignore the way his grip on her arm was loosening. "I will take care of you."

"I'm sure you will." He said quietly, his hand slipping from her arm and onto the ground, limp.

"Ma'am?" one of the medics asked from beside her, and Hana brought her hand up to brush a few stray hairs away from his face which looked so much like Thorin's. Her fingers were coated with blood as she moved down past his soaked beard to feel for a pulse, and there was none.

Shakily, she reached out and closed his eyelids, bringing his hands to rest on his chest. "Here passes Frerin, son of Thrain, brother to Thorin and Dis. Let Mahal welcome him home warmly."

/

Later that day, as things grew quiet; Hana went to find Bifur, who was miraculously still alive. More than anything she wished to stay with her cousin, to comfort him in his last hours, but she was still needed elsewhere. She dressed his wound as gently as she could, being sure not to put pressure on his swollen skull, and then she stood.

"Hana!" she heard Oin call, and turned. "Dis needs you," said the old dwarf, "She is over with the newest set of wounded."

She nodded and made her way to the where a group of dwarfs milled about, some well, some wounded, and some dead, only to find Thorin's sister crumbled on the ground, face buried in her skirts.

"Dis," she said gently, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder as she knelt down. The dwarf woman lifted her head to reveal an agonized face, tears streaming down in an unceasing flow.

"They brought my husband back, he didn't make it."

The words were so simple, but they struck something in her that made Hana gather Dis up into her arms, and cry with her sister in law. It was not fair, not a single part of it.

"What about Fili and Kili?" Thorin's sister asked. "What are we going to do?"

"Shh," Hana said, running a hand through Dis's hair, this being all she could do.

/

The Battle of Azanulbizar ended in favor of the dwarves of Erebor. But there was no feast, nor song. For their dead was beyond the count of grief.

Thorin's eyes glanced about the scene; death was in every corner of his vision. He could still see his grandfather's head rolling towards him, and his father disappearing into the mass of fighting dwarves and orcs to battle Azog. He could still feel the pale orc's mace against his oaken shield, and he could still hear the wail he let out as he sliced away his arm.

He could smell the blood that seemed to cover every inch of him, and taste the stale air that was heavy with death. He still remembered the shouts of grief once the orcs had been driven back into Moria, once the dwarves began to realize the toll that the battle had left.

That had all been hours ago, and he was still searching for his father. He had not seen Thrain fall in battle, nor had he yet to find his body, so Thorin would not believe a single word from those who claimed his father was dead.

The tears had not fallen. He doubted they ever would. One could only fall into so much emotion after watching nearly every friend they had succumb to a blade, or stumbling upon their lifeless body crammed against a rock, surrounded by the vile likes of orcs. Thorin gripped the oaken branch that had saved his life, not caring about the splinters that sunk into the skin of his hand. Thrain had to be somewhere, anywhere.

"Thorin," came a quiet voice behind him, and he turned to see Balin. "It's nearly dark," said the old dwarf, "We need you back with the remainder of our people."

"My father is not dead," he said coldly.

"I never said he was," Balin replied, and when Thorin turned away, he gripped his wrist.

"He's not dead!" Thorin bellowed, ignoring how his voice cracked.

The old dwarf stared down at his feet, and Thorin's features softened. "Balin-"

"We lost Frerin and Dis's husband." said Balin quietly, "As well as my father."

Thorin felt his heart skip a beat. He sunk to his knees amid the carnage, not caring of the blood that soaked through his trousers.

"Why?" he asked softly.

"I wish to grieve too," said Balin, placing a hand on his shoulder, "But your people need you. They need a king Thorin, and you cannot ignore their plea, I beg you.

Thorin nodded numbly and rose to his feet. "Come," said Balin, putting a guiding hand on his friends back. "Let us go back to the encampment. You people need to see your face."

"They will hate me." said Thorin quietly. "They will hate what I've done, what this battle cost them."

Balin sighed as he began to lead Thorin towards the lights that were the fires of the encampment of the remaining dwarves. "This choice was your grandfather's, not yours, and now they look to you to lead. They will not hate you Thorin, they need you. I need you."

He glanced down at his hands, now nearly drenched in blood. At that moment, he decided he hated the color red more than anything else.

/

Amid rushing from persons to persons, and rejoicing upon Bofur's return, Hana caught glimpse of Thorin, making his way amongst the healing tents with Balin. She nearly fell to the ground in relief. It was well past dark, and she was assuming the worst had occurred.

She had heard news of Thror's and Thrain's death, and she had heard of how Thorin had slain the pale orc and led his people to a grim victory, but no news had come to her after that, which scared her entirely.

"Go to him," said Oin beside her, leaning in to examine the patient she was currently over. "I'll take care of him, you just go."

She nodded in thanks, and began to move towards where Thorin stood, gazing about the field of wounded, Balin had left him alone it seemed.

He stood tall and strong, although he had seemed to lose some of the pride that had used to reside in his features. Now his face was set in a deep frown, blood caking nearly every inch of his skin and his armor torn in several places, an oaken branch rested at his feet.

"Thorin," she said softly as she approached, and he turned to her, something dark and empty in his eyes. They stared at each other for the longest moment, neither quite knowing what to say. He had just lost his grandfather, father, brother and brother in law. He had just lost everything, and had the burden of a lifetime placed upon his shoulders. She couldn't begin to understand how he felt, and so she held out her arms, hoping that he understood.

It was like being mauled by a bear, the embrace that they shared. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her shoulder, squeezing her tightly against him. Hana breathed in the smell of sweat and blood, and she let her hand move to press into his back as she returned the embrace.

"Did Frerin suffer?" he asked after the longest moment.

"No," she assured, "He passed quickly. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you."

He whimpered, and sunk to his knees, Hana sinking with him.

"Thorin…" she started softly, having not the slightest idea of what to say.

She felt him shake, whether from exhaustion or grief she did not know, and it was all she could do to hold him close and shake with him, letting tears pour down like waterfalls as waves of relief and sadness crashed over her.

He sobbed, and she held him tighter. No one paid the two much heed, save Balin, who simply looked her in the eye and nodded, expressing what could not be expressed through words.

"I'm sorry," she said into his hair. "I'm so sorry, Thorin."

For what felt like hours Thorin simply sat there, his head in her shoulder and his arms laid heavily around her. It was both far too long and far too short a time for her. In those moments, Hana thanked Mahal.

And at the same time she cursed him.

/

**Long time no see everyone! I hope you enjoyed this latest update; It took me a lot longer than expected. After watching the extended edition of The Desolation of Smaug and the trailer for the Battle of Five armies, I couldn't help but write, because I AM GETTING WAY TO MANY FEELS. I'm going to love and hate this movie so much.**

**I hope to be able to update soon, and I hope this chapter didn't hurt you too much!**

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

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	37. Epilogue III

Epilogue III

The night was cold in the Blue Mountains. Their home was a simple one, with bare walls and a quilted bed. A small wooden table sat in the corner in case they received company, but it was rare to have visitors, especially since both of them were seldom at home. Since their arrival in the lands of the west, Thorin had set to work on making a settlement for their people, creating homes and establishing jobs. He found that helping his people was a good distraction from the woes that had been facing him of late.

Balin had enquired on whether or not to build a large hall for the king and his kin to dwell, but Thorin was annoyed by the thought. His people needed homes, food and work. Why waste timber on a large hall if only to make himself comfortable? A compromise was eventually reached, and a smaller hall was built, mainly for meetings and gatherings, and perhaps in the future, a party or two.

His cousin Gloin set to work on mining projects, and Dori set up trade with neighboring villages. A hospital had been built, and a small militia had been trained as well. The homes of his people were small and frail, and the past three winters had been bitter, but at least his people had full bellies, if only barely.

Long had been his journey through the misty mountains with Dwalin, seeking his father Thrain. Not a trace was found, and Thorin's resolve was beginning to wear, yet he could not give up yet. His father was still out there- probably wondering when his son would show up to save him from his troubles, and Thorin was determined not to let him down.

His eyes shifted from left to right as he walked through the streets of Ered Luin. He no longer trusted the darker places, or the quiet corners. His breath came out in white clouds before him, the tips of his fingers had lost feeling long ago. But Thorin couldn't bring himself to care; his mind was far too occupied by other things.

When he reached the doorstep to his small home, he could see an orange haze from the window, the shadow of a fire in the hearth flickering at the outer edges of the wall. Pushing open the door and stepping inside, he was immediately overcome with the change in temperature. The dry cold he had been in was gone, replaced by a familiar warmth.

Hana lay curled in their bed, long hair fanned out around her and the quilts hiked up over her shoulders, she was fast asleep.

"Uncle!" a small voice erupted from near the hearth, and Thorin turned to see his nephews resting on the floor near the fire, surrounded by a better portion of the blankets they owned. Kili was asleep, snoring loudly and his hair falling over his hairless chin. Had it already been fifteen years- he wondered?

Fili sat up; closing the book he had been browsing. "You're back!" he said in a loud whisper, and Thorin nodded, removing his shoes and placing them near the door and draping his cloak over the back of one of their dining chairs.

Often his nephews stayed with them. Dis was now a single mother after all, and she needed breaks from raising her two children on her own. Thorin and Hana always accepted their requests to stay over, delighting in the presence of children- something they had not yet been gifted with.

Thorin winced at the thought- and pushed it aside. Now was not the time to worry about things he could not change.

"How are you and your brother?" He enquired, going to ruffle the hair of his elder nephew. "How is your mother?"

"Alright." said Fili quietly, and Thorin raised an eyebrow. "Just, 'Alright'?"

Fili looked down at his book for a moment. "She misses Father."

Thorin bit his lip. He remembered the days following the battle, how Dis blocked herself from the outside world for weeks and he was forced to console his nephews, who were far too young to understand what death meant, or why their father wasn't coming home.

"You were supposed to be home days ago." said Fili, "Hana has been staying up late for you."

He glanced at the sleeping form of his wife. "I am sorry," he said, "There's some things happening of late that require more attention than I am used to giving."

"I know," his nephew said quietly. "Hana told me you're busy right now, and that's why we don't really see you."

Thorin sighed, taking off his muddied tunic and setting it by his boots to be washed later. "Go to sleep, Fili." He said softly but firmly, and his nephew complied, turning over and resting his head on his arm for comfort.

Climbing into bed as smoothly as he could, Thorin stretched his tired muscles and let himself settle in the welcoming comfort of the warm quilts. Hana was turned away from him, her torso rising and falling as she breathed. He sighed, letting his dirtied fingers thread through her gold strands of hair. This was not the life he had imagined for them, for her. It was not the life he'd hoped for his nephews or his sister or his people. But there was little he could do to change that.

And so, with a restless mind, Thorin fell asleep.

/

Hana sat quietly at the table, looking out the window and into the busy streets outside of their little home. It was market day, and dwarves and men alike wandered the streets to trade goods amongst each other. Under normal circumstances, she'd likely be spending the day selling toys with Bofur, or perhaps going to political meeting with Thorin (although the later she found quite dreadful). But today was no normal circumstance.

The previous night Thorin had returned from a trip to the forests surrounding Bree, investigating a rumor that his father was seen wandering amongst the old trees there. Yet instead of having a quiet evening as they usually did when he returned, Thorin immediately told her to put on shoes, and then they made their way through the city and to the home of Balin. It was late at night when they had arrived, and the old dwarf was not entirely pleased with their sudden visit. But he remained quiet to listen to what Thorin had to say.

"Have you heard of a wizard who goes by the name of Gandalf?" he asked as they sat at the table, and Hana perked up.

"I actually think I've met him," she said a bit hesitantly. And in order to answer Thorin's questioning look: "It was years and years ago, in the first few months that I knew you. Do you remember when we were separated at the river and I'd nearly drowned?"

Thorin nodded slowly, and it occurred to Hana for the first time how long they had actually spent together. Nearly ninety years had passed since the trading expedition that altered the course of their people's future, nearly ninety years since Smaug, and she still had nightmares.

"Well, he saved me." She said, and after a moment, "Did you meet him?"

"Yes," said Thorin, "He spoke with me and asked me if… well told me that I should…"

"What?" Balin enquired, and Thorin looked up at his friend from across the table.

"Balin, Hana, I want to take back Erebor."

And that was what led them to the current predicament, Hana sitting at the table and fumbling with the hem of her robe, mind wandering as she waited for Thorin to return from the meeting at the hall. She had been invited of course, but had been having trouble in her leg of late, and the trip to Balin's home the previous night had caused her great strain, and it was all she could do not cry out when she stood. Ninety years had passed, and it seemed as if the muscles in her leg would never heal.

The hinges creaked as Thorin opened the door and stepped in, his wrinkled eyes offering her a soft look.

"What have they decided?" she asked, trying to stand, but Thorin was soon there resting a hand on her shoulder to still her, and taking the seat in front of her.

It was a long moment before he spoke, finally letting out a deep sigh as he rubbed his eyes. "I have acquired twelve dwarves to join me, and hopefully Dain of the Iron Hills will come to our aid as well."

"Which dwarves?" she asked.

"Balin, Dwalin, Oin, Gloin, Dori and his brothers Nori and Ori, as well as… Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur." He cleared his throat and Hana pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. So her brothers and cousin had indeed volunteered like she expected them to?

"And what of the last two?" she asked softly, and Thorin stare at her with his dark grey eyes for the longest moment. The words that left his mouth next were rushed, almost as if he hoped she wouldn't catch them.

"Fili and Kili."

Hana felt his hands envelope her own, resting on her knee. Their nephews were to join? But they were both so young- barely old enough to join the militia. The thought of them facing up against the dragon made her stomach churn and her hands shake.

"And… what has Dis to say?"

"Kili will be telling her." said Thorin. "I… I did not ask them to come- Hana. They volunteered, and being some of our best fighters, they would be an asset to us."

Hana nodded stiffly, looking over Thorin's shoulder and out the window, trying to push down the burning feeling in her chest.

"…You are angry with me?"

She did not respond.

"Hana…" he started, "If you asked me to, I'd remain here."

She then looked up into his eyes, and the sincerity and tenderness in them made her façade of strength dissolve in an instant.

"Thorin," she whispered hoarsely. "I will always support you in all that you do. You will always be my king and my husband."

"But?" he asked, leaning down to meet her gaze.

"But this quest makes me feel ill." she began. "It makes my head hurt and my hands shake. Something just isn't right about all of this."

"I know you are afraid, this is an entirely absurd thing to do." responded Thorin, "But Smaug has not been seen since the day he attacked, and if we do not act now, others could take the home which was ours. This is our one chance to go back to the way things were, to how our lives should have been."

"But Thorin, I am happy here." Hana protested, "I am happy with our little home and our little city. I am happy living a quiet, dull life with you."

His hand came up to touch her cheek, the callouses on his skin scratching against it softly. "And your happiness is what I desire. But I cannot let this chance pass by me, not when I have the ability to return our people to their former glory."

Hana nodded gingerly, and he heaved a deep sigh. "If it is what you ask, I will stay."

"No," she said quietly. "I will not ask you to stay. If this is what you desire I will support it with all of the will in me."

She felt the cool skin of his forehead press against her own, and she let out a quiet breath she didn't know she was holding. Why did everything feel so- off?

"Thank you," he said softly.

"I only wish that I could come as well," she muttered, "I want to protect you… and Fili and Kili and Bofur and Bombur and Bifur… but this damned leg…"

"I know." he responded, and the fell into a silence, because words alone could not express the emotions transitioned between the two then. They had endured ninety years of hardship, had seen people die quietly and people die screaming. They had faced dragon fire and starvation. Through his career as the leader of the people and his career as a brother, uncle and husband she had been with him. She could not bear him children, but she could support him, and that's all that he ever asked.

"When will you be leaving?" she whispered.

"Sometime next week."

"Ah…"

"It will be strange," he said, pulling back to look at her in the eyes. "to be away from you for more than just a few weeks, strange to not have any council meetings or attend the spring festival."

"Are you sure you aren't just leaving to escape that accursed political career of yours?" she asked jokingly, and he gave a soft chuckle.

He offered her a hand up, which she took with no small amount of wincing. When she was balanced he drew her near to her chest, wrapping his arms around her and resting his jaw against her head.

"I love you," he said, almost too softly for her to hear. Hana could not help but smile at that- seldom did he offer her such words; he was far too busy of late to speak to her as he did in their younger years.

"Come back to me." She ordered more than requested, and he let out a breath.

"If it's the last thing I do."

/

For the first time in many years, Kili remained quiet for over a few hours. Something- nerves, excitement, or both, was keeping his words away; so much so that Fili was starting to grow worried.

"Cheer up brother." He said, "It's the adventure that we've always wanted."

Kili nodded, pulling his bag further up on his shoulder as they made their way to the gates of Ered Luin. They had already exchanged goodbyes with their tearful mother, but the thought that they were finally leaving was still processing in his young mind. He had never traveled more than a few miles from the borders of their land. What could possibly be out there?

At the gate, Hana was there to wave them off. Not only was she Thorin's wife and a symbol to the people of Ered Luin, but she had also become a good friend to many of the dwarves she met, and was something like a second mother to him.

Nori, Bombur and Dwalin were joking around, and most of the dwarves seemed to be in good spirits about the quest. He watched as Hana gave out her last goodbyes to her brothers Bofur and Bombur, as well as her cousin Bifur, sharing a smile and good natured joke with each one as Thorin watched from a bit of a distance, his mouth set in a firm line. She then moved to her nephews, and putting a hand on each of their shoulders said, "I fear that you have both grown too quickly for my tastes. I still remember when Fili braided my hair and Kili asked me to make him a doll."

They shared a good natured laugh, and Hana continued. "Now you stay out of trouble- Mahal forbid your mother takes her wrath out on Thorin if something should happen- or even worse, me."

Fili and Kili smiled this time, not quite laughing. It could be many years before they saw her again.

"You are strong beyond measure, Fili, and I'm very proud of the dwarf you've become." she said, moving to give the older of the two an embrace. "Be brave and look after yourself, as well as your brother."

"I will," he said softly, and Kili bit his lip. It was like saying goodbye to their mother all over again, and it was not a pleasant thing to do.

"And as for you," she said, moving to the younger one to give him a hug as well. "Follow your heart and your wit; I know there is someone out there who needs your influence."

Kili nodded, and Hana stepped back, sighing. "Watch after your uncle, he can be very stubborn at his best times. Do write if you get the chance."

They watched as she moved away from them and to Thorin, the last person she wished to say goodbye too.

"Remember to always wear dry stockings," she said, "Always clean your scrapes and always drink your soup warm."

Thorin gave her a little smile. "Anything else?"

"Remember who you are," she said, fixing up the collar of his tunic. "You are Thorin Oakenshield, the bravest and wisest dwarf I know. Do not let doubt enter your heart; there are great things that lie ahead of you."

"Ahead of us." He corrected, and she let her lips tug up in a watery grin. "Ahead of us," she agreed.

The assembly of thirteen dwarves went quiet, waiting for Thorin's first command.

"We move south," he said, "Gandalf says that there is yet a fourteenth member of our company, a burglar who will be a great asset to this quest."

Thorin then turned back to her, and with a swift yet languid motion he kissed her, not caring about what the others would think.

"I will return to you." He promised, and then pulled away. Their eyes lingered in each other's for a moment before he turned and raised his hand to motion for the company to begin moving. As they began their trek he did nott look back, because he knew that the second he did his resolve would fail him, and he'd made a promise, to her and the rest of his people.

Hana watched them walk away, and fought the urge to run out to him and beg him to stay. Thorin knew what he was doing.

He did.

/

Bilbo Baggins sat with his back against the cold stone of the watch tower of Dale, still shaking at the memory of the battle he'd just witnessed, at the death and destruction a hoard of gold had caused. He shuddered, pulling his knees up to his chest. They had taken Thorin's body away to be prepared for burial hours ago. He could still see the tears streaming down Balin's face and the shaking in Dwalin's shoulders. He could still hear the deep voice of the King echoing in his head, cracked and weak as he choked on blood trying to get the words out.

"Go back to your books… your fireplace…plant your trees… watch them grow… if more of us valued home above gold, it would be a merrier world."

The tears had stopped falling long ago; he'd nearly exhausted himself from the amount of crying he'd done. Under normal circumstances he'd be ashamed of it, but today he wasn't. Today he wasn't ashamed of anything, only that he hadn't come sooner.

There always seemed to be something, quick thinking, or a stroke of luck or random event that saved them at the last second. But today that did not happen. There wasn't a single "despite the odds" event that occurred. Fili, Kili, and Thorin were dead. Thirty months of hardship and toil, and just like that they were gone, disappeared from the world like a crumb swept off of the table. It was still surreal for him. His friends were… they were…

"Hello," he heard a voice pipe up from beside him, and he looked up to see an unfamiliar woman standing above him. Her long, wavy blonde hair was streaked with grey and her face was fair, albeit a little strained.

"Uh- hello." He said awkwardly, and then motioned to the spot next to him. "Care to take a sit?" he asked, more out of obligatory politeness than out of desire for company.

"I daresay I do." She said, wincing as she moved down next to him. "I presume you are Bilbo?"

"Why- yes," he said, confused. "How did you know that?"

"My name is Hana, daughter of Hasl." She said, "I pray they must have told you _something_ about me."

"I-" he started, immediately preparing to say no, but then he stopped. "Balin, er- told me that Thorin had a wife named Hana, and she stayed back in the Blue Mountains to look after the dwarves there. He um, well he told me that she had gotten into an accident some years past and had…well..." he cleared his throat. "Well yes, and Bofur also described his sister Hana as being that same person."

The dwarf woman next to him nodded, blue eyes looking at the darkened sky above them. "It's good to know that at least someone remembered me in this madness. I left Ered Luin not six months ago by request of Thorin to meet him at Erebor. He had written me right after a run in with goblins. I assume much has changed since then."

"Yes." Bilbo said, looking at his hairy feet, he wasn't sure if she knew what had become of her husband and nephews yet, nor if he should tell her.

"Dragon sickness?" her voice was much quieter this time, as if she were a child whispering at night so as to not get caught awake by parents. Bilbo nodded and she sighed. "How bad did it get?"

Bilbo opened his mouth and then closed it. "It doesn't matter you know," he said, "Thorin overcame it in the end."

He nearly clamped his hand over his mouth as the last three words slipped out, but Hana didn't even flinch. She only looked over to him, eyes wistful. "He did?"

"Yes," Bilbo said slowly, "He came back to us; right when I thought hope had been lost he came back to us."

He saw a tear fall from her eye, and not knowing what to do to comfort her, continued. "He fought so bravely, him and Fili and Kili. You should've seen him; he was so passionate and so strong."

She let out a dry laugh as more tears began to fall. "I have no doubt about it." She said with a small smile, but after a moment her voice dropped an octave. "Did he suffer?"

Bilbo shook his head, memories of strained apologies escaping through bloodied lips flooding back to him. A small noise escaped his throat at the thought.

"No, not for long." He said, "I came to him and… and he spoke to me. I could see in his eyes Hana… he had come to terms with it. This world could bring him no more pain than it already had."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her begin to shake. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Sorry, I just…" Bilbo turned to see her hand come up to cover quivering lips, her eyes shut tight in an effort to hold back the tears. "He promised he'd come back to me." She whimpered. "He, Fili and Kili were all supposed to return to me. We were all supposed to live together happily. It wasn't supposed to end this way."

Bilbo bit the inside of his cheek. "I know," he said, putting a consoling hand on her shoulder as he watched her world crumble. "I know."

/

"Good morning." Hana said, going to her bag and pulling out some of the toys she'd been tinkering with that week. "Sorry I haven't been able to visit lately, you have no idea how much trouble Dain Ironfoot will go to in order to ensure the celebration will have ale."

She ran a hand through her hair, letting the other one trail over the edge of the sealed coffin that bore Fili's name. She set the miniature rocking horse on the ground by the foot of it, and then moved to Kili. "Has it been a year already? It feels like just yesterday I was arriving to Dale in the midst of a huge battle. He plans to do this every year you know, an anniversary party."

She set a red painted top at the foot of Kili's coffin. "I'm not sure why he wants to have a party for all of this. I suppose to celebrate the living, however few those may be." Thorin was next, she moved to his coffin and sat with her back against it, letting her head hit against the cool stone.

"Do you remember that day that you tried to play swords with me in the hall- Fili? And do you remember when Kili was born? Do you remember when we were married, Thorin? Do you remember the nights we spent by the fire, reading books to these boys?" she cleared her throat.

"Dis misses all of you dearly, and so does Balin. Dwalin does too, although he doesn't admit it anymore. He's is almost as stubborn as you three."

"Let's see… news? Bilbo just wrote Balin, he recently adopted younger cousin whose parents were killed in a boating accident. Things seem to be settling in Bag End and he has finally found the last of his spoons. He plans to pass the Mithril armor and his sword down to future generations, and plans to record his adventure with you the moment he has time. He says he misses the company terribly, even if they were ill mannered and loud."

She breathed softly. "What else? Kenaii and Bofur had their second child yesterday; she has beautiful red hair like her mother, and the mischievous eyes of her father. She reminds me of Kili when he was a babe."

Hana fiddled with her last creation, a raven carved out of driftwood, and painted blue and grey out of memory of his eyes.

"Did I ever tell you Kili? I knew Tauriel's father. He was a good friend, even for an elf. I met Tauriel not long ago, and I can see why you liked her. She has spirit that I can't see in the rest of her kin…." Hana looked at her scarred hands. "She didn't look to good, Kili. Something in her eyes was off. Her skin was ashen and her body seemed to shake in frailty. Elves can die of a broken heart you know- you really did cause her a lot of grief, I daresay as much as you caused me."

She grew quiet, as if waiting for a response.

"You all caused me a lot of grief."

A tear fell, and then two. She thought that after so many visits she'd be able to make it through one without shedding tears, but it seemed not so.

"I took a walk the other night," she said firmly, in an effort to calm herself. "The moon was large and bright, and it made me think of you three. Kili's smile and Fili's eyes mostly, they were always quite nice."

"Anyways, on my walk I was imagining the future we could have had, I was imagining training Fili for the throne and trying to convince Kili to not fall for an elf maiden, as I'm sure we would've done. I'm sure that we would've gone back to Ered Luin a few times, or wandered the ruins of Dale. We were going to grow old together you know- Thorin. You and I were supposed to become grumpy and fat, and argue over little things and go to sleep before the sun even set. We were supposed to have children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. There were so many things…"

She got to her feet, and tenderly she set the little raven on the ground near the coffin, amidst the many other toys she had brought to him.

Hana moved to the staircase that led back to Erebor, but stopped in her tracks and turned. "I just wanted to make one thing clear, Thorin." She said, "I want you to know that… to understand that…" she cleared her throat. "I was never disappointed in you. I loved you for yourself and I'm proud of every last one of your actions. Every last…" her voice cracked and trailed off.

After all, they couldn't hear her. They never could and they never would. They weren't there, they were lost long ago.

"Same time next week," she asserted suddenly, more to herself than to her conversation "partners".

She wasn't sure why she did it, visited their graves and talked to herself. Perhaps she was finally going insane, or perhaps she just needed someone to speak to, and not just as a friend or a companion.

Because after all, maybe they could hear her.

/

**So the Battle of the Five Armies ripped my heart out and dipped it in acid… seriously. I hope this ties up a lot of loose forya, I'm thinking I'll write one more epilogue if only to give it a little bit of a happier ending, (because BotFA was painful enough) Please tell me what you think! And I'm sorry for anyone who isn't fond of the whole Tauriel/ Kili thing. As a Tolkien fan I'm not either, but as a film student I think it's incredibly well written on Jackson's part.**

**Have a merry Christmas everyone!**

**-Infinityscripts**

**Original text**

Contribute a better translation


	38. Alternate Ending

-Alternate Ending-

When the eagles came, he was standing.

Azog the defiler lay dead on the ice, black blood spilling from between the cracks in his primal armor, his eyes glazed over. Thorin stared down at his enemy of a hundred years. Was it over? Could it be?

Footsteps from his right made him turn, only to see Bilbo bolting down the stone staircase, a look of utter relief on his face. "Are you alright?" he asked as he drew near, bluish brown eyes glancing at the lifeless form of Azog, and then back to the dwarf king.

Thorin nodded numbly. The battle had been won, but just barely. As Azog pinned him down, the dwarf blocking his blade with Orcrist, Thorin managed to find some hidden strength that he used to shove Azog up as he rolled to the side. The orc's sword came down full force on his shoulder, and Thorin howled in pain. What Azog didn't expect though, was Thorin using Orcrist to slash through the tendons in the back of his knee, and then when the orc was distracted by the action; thrust it through his armor and deep into his chest.

Adrenaline coursed through every vein in his body as Thorin took a deep breath. His shoulder was bleeding severely, but if he were to receive proper medical treatment he would probably be fine. Blood coursed from the cut above his eye as he turned to look at Bilbo.

"Where are Fili and Kili?" he asked.

"In the healer's tent." Bilbo responded. "Oin's been checking them over, he says that they should make it, although Fili's back will be in bad shape from the fall he took, and it's likely he broke his leg. Kili will be fine."

Thorin's chest fell as he let out a deep sigh of relief. He then glanced back over the frozen waterfall, watching as the eagles took out what remained of the orc armies. His eyes widened as he turned to Bilbo, memories flooding back.

"I hurt you." He said, approaching the hobbit. Bilbo only shook his head, offering an awkward smile.

"No, no, I'm alright. No harm done."

Thorin shook his head stiffly. "I said horrible things, I held you over the edge of the gate. I nearly killed you."

The Halfling shrugged good naturedly. "More or less."

"I do not deserve your forgiveness," said Thorin, taking a step forward, staring at his own feet in poorly hidden shame. "But I will ask you for it anyways."

Bilbo gave an exasperated laugh, rubbing a hand against his forehead. "Of course I forgive you. You were not yourself; it's that gold that turned you mad."

"There is a sickness in that mountain," he agreed, turning to gaze at the doors of Erebor, watching as the battle died down and men poured out to tend to the wounded. "I do not want to go back there, not yet."

"Then why don't we go to the healing tents?" Bilbo suggested, "Your shoulder could use a fair bit of patching up, if I do say so myself."

"Yes," he said, looking back at Azog and then closing his eyes in relief. "Please, take me to them."

/

Fili heaved a deep breath as Thorin entered the tent, so his uncle was indeed alright!

Azog had nearly killed him not to long ago, and if not for his own set of Mithril armor much like that of Bilbo's he would have succeeded. Instead, Fili feigned dead as he was dropped from off of the tower and down to the doorway, where Kili then half carried him away and to a healer's tent. His back was bruised in several places, and he was quite sure that something was terribly wrong with his left ankle, but he would not be dying anytime soon, which was good enough for him.

"How are you?" Thorin questioned as he approached his nephew, worry evident in his glassy blue eyes.

"Quite alright." responded Fili with a grin. "Although I doubt I'll be in working order for at least a few days. Is the battle nearly over?"

"Yes," said Thorin, and then after an awkward silence overtook them he continued, "I am sorry Fili. I am sorry that you had to see me the way that I was. I was not myself, and I should not have treated all of you as I did." The king looked down at his bloodied hands. "I am ashamed at what I have become."

Fili glanced at where Bilbo stood awkwardly in the doorway, and the hobbit gave him a look that said, 'he need's comfort,'

"I-I felt it as well." Fili said hesitantly, and Thorin looked up at his nephew. "The dragon sickness I mean. When I first looked at it I was nearly overcome, and if I hadn't had you as an example of what would come of it, I would have failed to resist- I am sure."

Thorin gave him a look that was a mixture of relief and despair, and Fili felt something tug at his heartstrings. He reached a hand out to Thorin, but was interrupted when Oin popped his head in the doorway. "I heard voices," he said, and then his eyes widened at the sight of his king. "Thorin, are you alright?"

"He um- hurt his shoulder." Bilbo piped up from beside him, voice a little strained. "Azog seems to have mangled it."

Oin nodded and entered the tent, bringing with him his medical kit.

"How's your brother?" Thorin asked as he took off his tunic and armor, and Oin set to work on his shoulder. Fili opened his mouth to say that Kili was nearly completely unscathed, but before he could another smaller figure emerged from the doorway.

His eyes went wide, and then a grin spread across his face as he recognized the familiar face, freckled and lined around the mouth from smiling, with grey streaked honey blonde hair. Hana glanced around the tent and then met his eyes, smiling back at Fili.

Thorin stood from the stool he was being tended on "Hana."

She stepped in, and both of them shared a long glance before he stepped forward, holding his hand out to her.

"I would embrace you if not for your shoulder." She said, smiling as she took his hand. Bilbo shot Fili a questioning glance, as if the ask 'Is this who I think it is?'

Thorin led her back to where he sat on the stool, and Oin gave Hana a nod as he continued to work on the king. Fili watched as she put her hand on his uncle's uninjured shoulder, and then moved away from him and to where he sat on the bed, leg propped up on the pillow.

"Kili is alright I hear." She said softly, eyeing his bandaged leg. "And you?"

Fili grimaced. "Don't tell mother."

Hana laughed, and leaned forward to give her nephew a gentle embrace. "I am glad that you've all made it out of this madness in one piece." She said, before turning to where Bilbo stood awkwardly in the corner. "I assume that you're Mr. Baggins, the burglar hired for this company?" she asked, and Bilbo nodded, offering a tight smile.

"I pray my husband has treated you fairly?" she asked, and Bilbo glanced between Fili and Thorin, the latter of which only looked down at his large hands.

"We had our rough patches." Bilbo admitted. "But I feel as if things have worked out."

Thorin looked up at the hobbit, something akin to gratitude in his eyes, and Fili smiled.

/

"Hana-" Thorin said, stopping in his tracks. They had been on a small walk between tents to visit the injured dwarves, it was late at night and few were wandering at this point, so he figured it was safe to explain things then. Hana turned to him.

"Yes?"

He stared at the snow covered ground beneath his feet. Of all of the people in Middle Earth, she was the last he wished to admit his faults to. These weren't just normal, trivial faults either; he had tried to kill someone over the Arkenstone, a mere rock!

"I have done terrible things today." He whispered. "You will dislike me very much when I explain them."

She remained quiet, and he continued, albeit a little shakily.

"I forsook our people, and let Dain's men die in battle for hours before I went to help. I nearly killed Bilbo when I found out he had taken the Arkenstone from me. I did not heed the council of Balin or Dwalin, and I let the refugees of Laketown suffer while I sat on my throne, thinking of nothing but the gold." He inhaled deeply. "I don't know why, but it took me Hana, just as it took Thror. The gold drove me mad. I have never felt so strongly drawn to anything before in all of my years. I couldn't resist it… I just couldn't."

"Thorin-"she started, reaching out to him, but he pulled away.

"I have failed everyone." He said. "If you had seen me as I was, you would not be with me for a second longer."

Hana sighed, gazing over the wall and at the snow colored battlefield. "I spoke to Balin before I came to find you. He told me everything."

"He did?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "He said everything you have said, but he told me something else, something that you have left out."

Thorin grimaced. Had he missed a sin?

Her dark blue eyes met his own as she smiled slowly. "He said that you came back. You returned to your own ways and abandoned those of your grandfather. You led the dwarves to victory today and slew Azog, eventually cutting off the ties with the army from the north. You redeemed yourself Thorin."

"For a short while, yes." He said, "But I cannot go back there Hana- not again. I do not trust myself with the gold that is in that mountain."

He nearly jumped as he felt her small, cold hand come to fit into his. It had been well over a year since they last shared physical contact. It felt like an eternity.

"I understand." She whispered. "Come back to Ered Luin with me."

"What?"

Hana nodded, "Help me to gather our people and prepare them for the trek back to Erebor. In the meantime allow Balin to control our affairs here. That gives you at least nine or ten months to clear your head before you return."

"I do not deserve that." He said softly. "I do not deserve anything like that."

"Hush," she said, squeezing his hand. "You could not control your actions in that mountain Thorin. They have all forgiven you already. Can you not forgive yourself?"

He glared at the grey stone of the wall. No, he could not.

Thorin felt her hand on his cheek, turning his head to face her, her eyes were glassy.

"There was not a day that I did not think of you." She admitted softly. "There were some nights when I did not sleep at all, just because I was so worried. The only thing that kept me grounded was the thought that I'd see you again, only with less of a weight on your shoulders. We would have our home and our happiness, and you would be free of whatever guilt you harbored from Smaug's attack. Please- do not take that hope away from me. Will you not stay by my side as you once did?"

"I will." He said immediately, "But I do not deserve to."

Hana sighed, "Perhaps one day you might see yourself as the rest of us see you."

Thorin grunted. "As a coward?"

She stood up on the tips of her toes so that they could be eye level, and in a soft voice she whispered: "As a king."

He looked at her for a few more moments, his features softening. Finally he grabbed her and pulled her into a close embrace, not caring about the ache in his shoulder.

Hana hugged him back just as fiercely, holding him tightly to herself as she smiled against his shirt.

There were not words to describe what he felt in those moments; all he knew was that he had made it. And she was there to see it.

/

"Well," said Bilbo, clearing his throat. "This is where the road forks. I shall return to Bag End," he smiled, "And leave you with the best of wishes."

"I thank you," Thorin said softly, bowing his head to show his gratitude. "And I am also sorry."

The hobbit let out a half laugh. "You've apologized a good two hundred times! Must I say I forgive you yet again?"

Thorin bit his lip, and the hobbit went into a small rant about the stubbornness of dwarves, before finally pausing, and putting his hand out for him to shake.

The king glanced at the hobbit up and down, and then grinned widely before pulling him into a hug.

"I hope your acorn fares well, Bilbo." He said, being sure to use the hobbit's name instead of 'Burglar' or 'Master Baggins,' a habit of which he was beginning to break.

The shorter of the two patted Thorin on the back awkwardly before pulling away. "May we meet again!" he called before turning to follow Gandalf, heading towards The Shire.

Thorin sighed and turned to his own company, Hana, Fili and Kili waited not far away with the ponies, smiles evident.

And for the first time in years, Thorin was at peace.

/

The king under the mountain watched as Dis rushed forward, pulling the sore Fili and the grinning Kili to her chest as she let out various exclamations of relief. Both of the brothers had warm smiles on their faces, because although they would not admit it, they were still very much their mother's sons, and being away from her for so long had worn on them.

He had called together a council meeting once they had returned to Ered Luin, explaining the events of the past thirty months and what was to be done next. Several people applauded at the announcement that they could now return to their kingdom of Erebor, while others were discontent due to the rapidly growing prosperity of their life in the Blue Mountains, which they were not ready to leave. It was decided that the city of Ered Luin would remain a territory of Erebor, and the people there would not be forced to return to the Lonely Mountain if they did not wish to.

Late that night, after a long and drawn out party with much drinking and games, Thorin found Hana in their old home, looking into the dusty fireplace that they had once read stories to their nephews near.

"It's strange," she said when he came to stand next to her. "I never thought that we would do it, and now that we have, I'm not sure if I even want to go. There are so many memories in this house."

"There will be more to make." He assured, placing a tender kiss on her temple. "There are many years ahead of us yet."

"Many." she agreed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

/

A year passed before Thorin gathered the nerve to return to Erebor.

He was not one to admit when he was afraid, nor was he one to show weakness in any situation. But as the last caravan of intending dwarves left Ered Luin for Erebor, he could not help the panic that arose with him. For he no longer had an excuse to stay, he would need to face his fear. Balin could only be Steward for so long.

This realization came to him as he was helping some of the younger dwarves load bags of wheat into the back of a wagon. Sweat poured down as the summer sun beat up ahead, and suddenly everything seemed to be closing in.

"Sir?" one of them asked, and Thorin looked down at the lad, taking a deep breath. _Sir. _That's right- he was the king- wasn't he?

"Carry on," he said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder before turning to find somewhere to be alone and gather his wits.

He found this beneath the shade of a great tree, a good ways away from where the caravan was preparing to depart. The king sat in the cool grass, wiping a hand across his forehead before closing his eyes for a moment, unsure of what to do. Could he go back? What if the gold sickness remained? What if he returned to his old ways?

"Thorin?" a voice whispered against the silence, making him jump. Soon Hana came into view, her face strained as she rubbed her neck. "Do you need someone?"

The king looked down at his hands. In front of large groups of people he rarely let his cool façade leave him, but here, alone in the woods with her, he could do so.

"Yes." He admitted, and the grass rustled as she came to sit beside him. She said nothing, and he was quite sure she already knew what was on his mind.

Her hand came to take his, rubbing circles into the back of it with her thumb. He let out a deep breath as he felt her lean against him, still not saying a word.

In those moments his thoughts turned from the dilemma at hand to her steadily growing stomach.

When they had found out, they were ecstatic. For years they had been trying and failing to bring forth children, and Hana had nearly been consumed in the guilt that came with knowing that her blood was likely the reason. But when she came out of the medical facility all of those mornings ago, large grin plastered across her freckled face, Thorin could not help the joy that flooded his soul.

"I hope he has your hair," He admitted quietly, and Hana looked up at him.

"He?"

The king nodded. "I have a feeling it will be male. If not, then we must find more names. I do not think that 'Frerin' would quite fit a daughter."

She laughed, "Correct you are."

Silence overcame them again, but not for long, as Thorin felt Hana shift beside him, and then as her soft lips pressed against his cheekbone, he could not help but smile.

All would be well.

/

They were not considerably young when they had their first child.

Thorin remembered little of that day, only that he had never had a happier day in his life. He had been meeting with some of his councilmen in their private tent. They were discussing if the amount of food would last them to Erebor, and what they would do if it did not.

Halfway through he noticed the shadow of someone standing outside, but they did not enter or speak, only shifted from foot to foot as the dwarves finished their meeting. Thorin began to feel anxious as he ventured outside, only to be relieved in finding Fili.

"Finally!" said his nephew, "I wasn't sure if it was alright to interrupt this meeting, as I got in fairly big trouble for disrupting the last one."

Thorin glanced around. "What is it?"

Fili pointed towards the medical tent a good half a league away. "Little Frerin is on his way."

Thorin was not sure why exactly he ran, all he knew was that he needed to be there when she had the baby; he needed to be there to hear its first cry. And so he sprinted across the camp, curtly apologizing to the people that were pushed out of the way as he dodged campfires and wagons. After what seemed like ages he reached the medical tent, and felt queasy at the sounds of stifled pain coming from inside.

He supposed it may have been smart to ask before entering, but in those moment's he did not feel smart. He felt terrified and elated all at once.

Hana lay on an assortment of quilts, several dwarrowdams bustled to and fro through the tent, some carrying water, some carrying cloth, some coated in unnamed substances. He half wondered what they were doing, but the other part of him sincerely didn't want to know, so he instead moved to kneel next to his wife.

"Look who's late," she said, letting out a high pitched breath as sweat poured down her forehead.

"Forgive me," he said, taking her hand as she cried out. The dwarrowdams all kneeled down by her and began to giving various instructions to breathe and to push. Thorin said nothing, only bit his lip at her apparent pain, that- and the bruising that would surely come from her squeezing his hand so.

Finally, he heard a cry from where the dwarrowdams kneeled, and all of the tension in the room left at once. He smiled, pressing his forehead against hers as the baby's sobs began to fill the air.

"You've done it," he breathed, grinning from ear to ear.

"A boy!" One of them said from the other side of the room, and Hana chuckled, "You bastard."

After a few more moments a dwarrowdam passed Hana their son, and he smiled softly as he brought a hand to brush against his face. "Frerin…"

Hana began to coo to him, and eventually the babe's sobs quieted. His eyes were shut tight and his skin was red, a thin crop of dark hair covering his head. Thorin felt something strange in his chest, something associated with both nostalgia and happiness. Something he could not name.

A tear left his eye, and then another. He was rubbing them away, smiling at the bundle in his wife's arms. He could hardly believe it.

"I love you," she murmured quietly beside him, and he kissed her then, his reply having no need to be said.

It was that moment that he knew for certain that there was no gold nor jewel that he could love more than the two people he held in his arms.

/

They made it back to Erebor in one piece, something that Hana was grateful for. Balin welcomed them at the gates, a large smile plastered against his steadily aging face. Dwalin was at his side, as well as Bofur.

She watched as Thorin moved to embrace each dwarf, holding their six month old son against her. After they had finished their hello's, all of the dwarves seemed to turn to her at once, ready to see the prince.

Hana stepped forward, and Bofur was soon beside her, a hand on her shoulder as he put out a finger for Frerin to latch on to.

"He's got your eyes," said her brother, "A nice deep blue."

The baby hiccupped, and Bofur met her eyes, grinning from ear to ear. "I am happy for you," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before giving space for Balin and Dwalin to approach.

The whiter of the two had tears in his eyes as he bade her son hello. "Thorin…" he started, grinning shakily. The dwarf king came to rest a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We've made it." He said, before turning back to the mountain. "Finally."

/

Fili considered himself to be a noble dwarf- at least to a certain extent. However, as Frerin began to grow he could not help himself. And when the dwarf prince was about ten years of age, he helped him to pull his first prank.

It was a simple one, taking the keys to the library right before closing time. He couldn't help the grin that split across his face from where he sat down the hall, watching the old fussy librarian pace back and forth, wondering how in world he would lock the door before retiring for the night.

Frerin giggled next to him. "What next?"

Fili looked down at the lad, he had thick dark hair like his father, as well as a light dusting of freckles on his forehead and chin. By the way he laughed and the energy he had, he could not help but be reminded of Kili.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," said the blonde, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your mother might ring my neck for this."

Frerin raised an eyebrow, something he'd been practicing over the past few weeks. "And what about pa?"

Fili snorted. "Thorin would act angry, but on the inside he'd laugh. They all do."

The younger grinned. "He always says that I need to prepare to be king. I don't see why though, I'm sure I'll be a great king."

The blonde looked down at the little one and grinned. "I'm sure."

/

"It's getting late," said Kenaii as she began to tuck Kona into bed. Her daughter was growing to be very beautiful, with long red hair and bright eyes like her father. Kona's twin, Kena, was not much different, Hana noted as the later of the two bounded up the stairs, Bofur in toe.

"I should be getting home," Hana agreed, bending down to plant a kiss on each of her niece's cheeks. "Frerin has training early tomorrow. Is he and Bram downstairs?"

Her brother nodded, giving her a grin. "Those two will be a world of trouble."

Hana laughed; her son and Bofur's were only eleven years apart, and were already the best of friends. She couldn't imagine the hell they'd raise in the future, considering the chaos they had already caused.

She made her way down the stairs, picking up her skirts as she did so. If there was one thing she didn't quite like about being queen, it was that she had to be in formal dress nearly every day. At first she had liked it- never being one to wear something that wasn't second hand, but now she could only see it as a nuisance. She was more than ready to go to her chambers and change into a night gown.

Bram was on the floor, hair in his face and laughing loudly as Frerin stomped to and fro, no doubt imitating the 'noble air' that Thorin attained when he was not alone with his family.

"Time to go home," she said, and Frerin groaned.

"Ma…"

Hana raised an eyebrow at him, putting a hand on her hip, and he quickly shut his mouth.

/

Frerin married young, being only ninety at the time. He asked for the hand of a pretty lass of the grey mountains, one with soft brown eyes and a smile as radiant as the sun. She was quite playful and at times a little too loud, but she had a kind heart, and they approved.

They brought forth five children, much to the happiness of the king and queen. They spoiled their grandchildren rotten, giving them as much of their time as they could. Thorin took a special liking to his youngest granddaughter, Rain was her name. Hana could often find her riding on his shoulders and running down the hall whilst pulling him behind.

Her husband had grown old now- she noticed. His beard was long and his hair was no longer the stark black it had once been, but now gray and faded. He had various spots on his hands and face, and a good amount of lines beneath his eyes. She supposed she wasn't much better, her hair hardly had any evidence of the sunny color it had once been, and she had much more trouble walking these days, needing a cane at her best of times.

Hana smiled when he approached her, just being released from a long and strenuous meeting. It was time for their midday walk.

When they had first returned, the couple had made a point to put aside time for one another in their busy schedules. Now that Frerin was slowly ascending to the throne however, they found there to be much more time on their hands then previously granted.

"My lady," he greeted, his voice not having changed the slightest from their younger years. Hana took his elbow as they made their way out of the city and into the fresh summer air.

"Do you ever look back?" she asked when they had made it a ways from Erebor. "When we were much younger?"

"I still remember that day I spoke to you and Bofur on the bridge," he said with a nod, "As well as the day you first kissed me in that forest."

Hana scoffed, "I believe it was you who initiated the kiss- my dear sir."

Thorin raised an eyebrow. "Was it now? I'm finding it hard to remember. You were quite eager you know."

The queen rolled her eyes, "You shan't speak those things- I _am _a lady."

He snorted. "You are?"

Hana frowned, looking out over the grasslands. She had to slow her pace a bit, not quite able to keep up. Thorin complied. "I do remember you asking for my hand as well as a good hundred years of being queen. Does that not make me a lady?"

Her king smiled. "I suppose."

She sighed, squeezing his arm. "It has been a good life, Thorin, son of Thrain."

"Aye," he said, "It has."

/

Hana died on the sixth of March, at a strange time of year where it was not winter but also not summer. She had been ailing a good four months beforehand, and it was of little surprise to Thorin when he woke up one morning to find her not breathing.

But that did not mean that he was at terms with it.

That morning he found himself holding her to his chest, not quite crying, but nowhere near content. He lay with her like that for a good few hours before Frerin came to find him.

"Pa-" he started, pushing the door open, but he stopped when he saw them on the bed. Thorin watched as his son's face fell, and he slowly came to stand beside them.

"She's been sick for quite some time," he said softly, and Thorin nodded. "We were expecting such a thing."

Frerin reached out to lightly brush a hand against her cheek. "She was too good to me."

Thorin let out a dry chuckle as a threaded a hand through her long, gray hair. "She was too good to both of us, son."

/

"You'd be so proud of him," Thorin said, groaning a bit as he came to sit beside the dark stone of her tomb. "Frerin, I mean. He's going to be a greater king than I ever was."

She said nothing, of course, and Thorin found himself sliding his hand over where her name had been engraved. "I daresay we did a decent job."

"Grandfather?" a voice whispered, and he looked up to see Rain. He smiled up at her; he knew those eyes, dark blue like the sky near midnight. Those eyes had been with him for over a hundred years. "Join me." he said, and she nodded, coming to sit at his side.

"It's been six years," Rain said softly, and he nodded. "Nearly seven."

She quietly took his aged hand into her young, soft one. "I love you, grandfather."

He smiled, ignoring how his eyes stung. "And I love you."

/

Thorin lived well on to see his great grandchildren, and on the twenty seventh of November in the year 3086, he joined his one at the home of Mahal.

Frerin did not cry, although he wanted to. He knew that his father was happier now, being no longer alone, he knew that Thorin had wanted this for many years. And so a great feast was held, kin, friends and people from all corners of middle earth came to remember the king under the mountain. Peace was spreading throughout the lands, and it was the first of many gatherings of folk of all races.

Tales would be told for many years to come about the king and his mountain, about his commoner wife and adventure with a company of twelve other dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard. But no one would remember it quite like they did.

And perhaps that was alright.

/

**Feels!**

**I was originally gonna keep Fili and Kili dead, but then I was like… NOPE SO NOT OKAY WITH ANY MORE EMOTIONS.**

**Tell me what you think! I thought they deserved a decent amount of fluff after all of the crud they've been through. I think this might be my last addition to this story! D: **

**Thanks for reading everyone; I really hope that you enjoyed it. If there's anything else you want me to put in I'd be glad to do it. Again, thanks for reading. I hope this alternate ending helped with some of the feels.**

**Stay awesome!**

**-Infinityscripts**

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